


nevertheless (i'm in love with you)

by vtforpedro



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Ilvermorny, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Fluff and Humor, Getting Back Together, Growing Up Together, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Original Percival Graves, Recovery, Romance, Teen Romance, They are the same age, when they're adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 37,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: In which Percy Graves meets Credence Barebone in their sixth year at Ilvermorny and will learn what love is and how it is shaped by the complexity of life’s unexpected turns.
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Comments: 27
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a week before Halloween in Ilvermorny and the castle already has a colony of live bats living on the ceiling in the Great Hall. Their droppings are thankfully charmed to disappear through a barrier a few feet below them but Percy Graves finds them irritating when they start to fly around in cloud-like formations.  
  
He’s sitting at his table and steadily working through his dinner with a sixth year Charms textbook opened next to him as the bats flow overhead to the delight of most of the others. It’s hard not to fall asleep all the same, fall dinners heavier than what he’s used to at home, especially after a day of advanced classes.  
  
Percy feels his shoulder get hit and ignores it as he flips a page in the textbook. He’s reading about the Bubble-Head Charm and hums as he taps the illustration in the book.  
  
“We’re going to have to know how to perfect this beyond this year,” he mutters. “We should practice— _what?_ What? If you hit me one more fucking time—”  
  
Percy looks at Fontaine to glare at him, but Fontaine is merely smirking and he gestures at the other end of the table. Percy sighs and looks at it. There’s a boy, probably a sixth year as well, who is being led to their table by Professor Calla. She gets him situated with a plate and goblet for dinner and Percy raises an eyebrow when he flinches in surprise when the plate fills with food.  
  
“Homeschooled sixth,” Fontaine declares. “You know what that means.”  
  
Percy does know what that means.  
  
They’ve gone five years with an empty bed in their dormitory and thought they would likely leave Ilvermorny never having a fifth boy in it. Percy feels sorry for him already because he and the boys he’s shared a room with every night for over five years have grown up together. They may not be best friends, besides Percy and Fontaine, but they are fond of each other.  
  
This boy is an outsider and by the looks of him, a painfully shy one. He keeps his eyes on his plate but he barely picks at it and Percy doesn’t blame him, because half the Hall is staring at him.  
  
Percy turns back to his textbook as Professor Calla walks toward the doors but she stops next to him and he looks at her warily.  
  
“Show Mister Barebone the common room and your dormitory so he doesn’t get lost, will you, Mister Graves?” she asks pleasantly.  
  
“Yes, Professor,” Percy answers and looks at Barebone when she walks away with a nod of approval.  
  
“He looks like he’s going to cry,” Fontaine mutters once Professor Calla is out of earshot.  
  
Percy shrugs and looks at his textbook. “You’d probably cry too if you joined a wizarding school in sixth and everyone stared at you while you tried to get some food,” he mutters. “Stop staring at him. All of you.”  
  
There’s a general sigh at the table but everyone looks away and Percy taps the illustration again. “We need to practice this outside of class.”  
  
“Think we’ll be fighting sharks, do you, when we’re Aurors?”  
  
“I think that anything can come up and knowing how to use this accurately could one day mean the difference between life and death.”  
  
“How many times now?” Fontaine asks the other sixths around him. “How many times so far this year?”  
  
“That’s got to be the seventh time,” Willows says with amusement. “You’re not going to perfect every spell you come across, Graves.”  
  
Percy shrugs. “I am,” he says. “And I’ll probably save your ass for doing it one day, Willows.”  
  
Willows rolls his eyes. “Best start calling him Director now, gentlemen, so he’s used to it when he gets to MACUSA and rules the world.”  
  
“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Percy says with a smirk and turns back to the textbooks when they snicker. He looks over the page and at Barebone, who is looking in his direction.  
  
Their eyes meet briefly and Barebone quickly looks away, back down at his dinner, and the way he’s hunched over, trying to make himself as small as possible, makes the hollow place in Percy’s chest widen. He knows that look, knows that desire, though he keeps it well hidden himself.  
  
If Barebone doesn’t start hiding the fact that he's scared and vulnerable, if he doesn’t make friends quickly, he’ll never find enjoyment here.  
  
Eventually students begin to leave the Hall, off to their common rooms, and Percy tells Fontaine to go ahead of him and to let Sera know he’ll see her tomorrow. Once his plate has disappeared, he gets up and walks down toward Barebone, who seems to have eaten half a biscuit and some vegetables.  
  
He looks up at Percy with a heavy amount of wariness but Percy ignores that and offers his hand. “Percival Graves,” he says. “You’re assigned to a dormitory with me and three others. I’ll show you to the common room and the dormitory.”  
  
Barebone blinks at him before tentatively taking his hand and shaking it. “Credence Barebone,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”  
  
“I know the first day can be less than ideal,” Percy says. “But eat something in the morning before a day of classes or tomorrow will be even worse. Come on.” He strides off down between the tables and hears Barebone scramble after him.  
  
They walk, mostly in silence, up the main staircase and to the left until they reach a narrower staircase and begin up it.  
  
“Professor Calla told me the Wampus common room is in one of the towers,” Barebone says and sounds afraid to say anything at all.  
  
“The common room is at the base of it. The tower houses the dormitories. It’s not as narrow as you might think,” Percy says. “Were you just sorted tonight?”  
  
“Yes,” Barebone mutters. “I don’t know much about the Houses.”  
  
Percy shrugs. “Wampus chose you for a reason,” he says. “You’ll find your place in it. You were taught at home before coming here?”  
  
“I was,” Barebone says with even more wariness, like he thinks Percy is going to mock him for it.  
  
“Professors should take it relatively easy on you for the first month or so, I imagine, but you might want to ask for a tutor, if they haven’t assigned you one already,” Percy says. “We’re studying for HAREs this year and next so there’s not much mercy to be found in our professors anymore.”  
  
Barebone doesn’t say anything for a while. “I think I must be far behind,” he finally says. “I didn’t have the best teacher.”  
  
Percy glances at him as they walk up the last staircase and down a hall. He stops in front of a wall with a small portrait on it, a Wampus cat snoozing in a tree.  
  
“Then get a tutor, your life will be easier,” Percy says. He gestures at the portrait. “Entrance into the common room. Passwords change weekly, look at the student board inside and memorize it every Monday morning or you’ll be stuck outside until someone comes by. _Diricrawl.”_  
  
The Wampus cat in the portrait yawns and flicks its tail and a door materializes in the wall, tall and intricately carved into the marble. It swings open and Percy steps inside and waits for Barebone to join him. Other students who are lounging around on the numerous sofas, armchairs and large floor cushions look over curiously. Percy gestures at the student board on the left side of the room.  
  
“Read whatever is on that tonight or tomorrow,” he says. “Passwords are the most important but there are other things you might find interesting. Girls’ dormitory,” he adds, pointing at the staircase in the left corner of the room and then the one at the right. “Boys’. Don’t ever go up the left staircase.”  
  
“Why would I do that?” Barebone asks and sounds queasy.  
  
Percy huffs a small laugh and gestures for Barebone to follow him. “Because sometimes people like to visit friends or girlfriends but we’re not allowed in each other’s dormitories,” he says and leads him up the stairs until they get to their room. He steps inside and is glad to see only Willows is here. “Yours,” he says to Barebone, pointing at the bed, its curtains drawn open and a very poorly held together trunk sitting on the edge of it. “This is Willows.”  
  
“Archie Willows,” Willows says dryly and holds his hand out. “Welcome to Wampus.”  
  
“Credence Barebone,” Barebone says a bit breathlessly and shakes Willows’ hand. “Thank you.”  
  
“Curfew is at ten, do not be outside of the common room after then,” Percy says and claps Barebone on the shoulder. “Questions?”  
  
Barebone walks to his bed and sits down next to his trunk, blinking dazedly as he looks at Percy. He shakes his head.  
  
“Don’t worry about Graves, Credence,” Willows says. “He’s a stickler for the rules unless he’s the one breaking them and he’s an absolute bastard otherwise. Don’t take it personally when he starts telling you how much of a moron you are.”  
  
“I only tell you that, Willows,” Percy says with a short smile. “I’m going downstairs. Help Barebone if he needs it.”  
  
“Yes, _sir.”_  
  
Percy walks out of the dormitory and back to the common room to find Fontaine. He takes a seat next to him on a sofa and opens his Charms textbook on his lap and listens to Fontaine sigh.  
  
 _“Well?”_  
  
“Try not to be yourself around him or you really will make him cry.”  
  
“Going to be eaten alive, that one.”  
  
Percy shrugs. “He’s Wampus,” he says. “What are we if we don’t defend people in our own House?”  
  
“Gonna be his knight in shining armor, Percy?”  
  
“No. But I could always use someone to practice curses on, so let me know if you see anyone giving him a hard time.”  
  
Fontaine laughs. “Duelling Club isn’t enough for you?”  
  
“They know it’s coming,” Percy mutters as he flips a page. “Wouldn’t want anyone to put up a shield.”  
  
It’s not until the early hours of the morning, not even four, that Percy hears from Barebone again. His curtains had been drawn when they’d come upstairs to get some sleep and he hadn’t emerged at all when they were changing into pajamas and talking about the day.  
  
But he’s used to waking to sounds of distress and he listens for a while. Barebone is crying, very, very quietly, but the occasional tiny sniff gives it away, as his bed is next to Percy’s, on his left. He stares up at the ceiling for a while and wonders where Barebone came from.  
  
Why he was homeschooled, why he’s shown up a couple months into their sixth year, and why he is so terrified.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t understand being terrified. He was always terrified to go home, terrified when the school year ended and he had to go back to the manor. School has always been an escape, a good one, and he finds more comfort here than anywhere else. He may never have to go home again, but he doesn’t know Barebone’s story.  
  
Percy has a feeling that, for Barebone, there is no place of comfort. Not yet.  
  
He doubts either of them get anymore sleep, though Barebone’s sniffs do eventually stop.  
  
——  
  
Credence Barebone generally avoids everyone over his first week. He looks on the verge of tears through most of his classes but their professors and some of his classmates sitting nearby him do help, where they can, Willows and Creavey tell Percy.  
  
But at meals, he eats alone and whenever they go to sleep, he’s already got his curtains drawn and he’s the last one out of the dormitory in the morning. Percy thinks he’ll come around eventually, because what he’d told Fontaine was true. He’s been thrown into this castle after being taught at home for five years with no friends, behind in his studies, and everyone stares at him.  
  
Percy watches them stare and watches Barebone keep his head down to avoid it. He’s tall and lanky but he keeps himself hunched over and Percy thinks if he got the bright idea to square his shoulders, the staring would probably stop.  
  
But it’s their sixth year, which means their professors are hard on them, to a degree they haven’t been yet. It’s a challenge, finally, to Percy, and he enjoys it immensely. He spends most of his free time in the library studying or getting homework out of the way so he can spend the weekend studying.  
  
Most of the sixth years, even in Horned Serpent, seem to be struggling and are often on the verge of tears just like Barebone. But they know not to ask Percy for help, because he’s busy enough himself between classes, studying, the Duelling Club and any leftover homework at the end of his days.  
  
Halloween is on Saturday this year which means after the feast there will be mayhem in and out of the castle, between festivities and the general excitement of it all, and Percy firmly shoots down Fontaine and Sera’s pleading to join them after the feast. They even offer him a bottle of smuggled firewhiskey and he’s tempted then, but eventually decides the headache from the holiday won’t be worth it.  
  
The feast is always good though, chicken pot pies with eerie human hand-shaped crusts, savory puff pastries that look like green eyeballs, hearty bright orange pumpkin soup, stuffed peppers carved like jack-o’-lanterns and various finger foods, often looking like severed fingers themselves.  
  
Chocolate tarts filled with peanut butter in shapes of bats and cats, apples dipped in black candy, mounds of meringue with ghostly features, and one massive cake shaped and decorated like a haunted house at each of the House tables are the desserts of the evening.  
  
Elms breaks his tooth on a candy apple, always a fun thing to witness, and Percy decides to leave when it begins to get loud and the school ghosts are getting a little too graphic with their death stories.  
  
He grabs a few chocolate tarts in a napkin and leaves for the library. It’s blessedly quiet when he walks inside and the librarian only rolls her eyes at him when he smiles at her.  
  
Percy finds a table in the corner after grabbing a few different books on charms and transfiguration but he’s more than confident with defense already. He could pass the exams tonight, most likely, but it’s never a bad idea to get more studying in.  
  
The peace and quiet after a very long day of hearing screaming everywhere he went is only an added bonus.  
  
He’s not strictly allowed to eat in the library, but he makes sure not to get chocolate on the books, and browses through advanced seventh year charms with interest. It’s then that he hears footsteps and glances up. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised when he sees Credence Barebone.  
  
Barebone doesn’t see him, veering to the right and taking a table a few down from his own, sitting down with a book near a window. He doesn’t open the book but stares out of the window instead, which looks over the grounds.  
  
There are various festivities going on out there, the grounds lit up with orange and yellow lanterns, but thankfully the noise is impossible to hear from the library.  
  
Percy can’t seem to drag his eyes away from Barebone, because he’s staring down at it all with a look of such intense longing that Percy feels embarrassed for having seen it. He looks down at his book then and turns a page, a bit loudly, so Barebone at least knows he’s not alone.  
  
When he gets to the next chapter, he glances up and sees that Barebone is looking at him. He quickly looks down at his book, which is still not opened, and Percy sighs.  
  
“You could go out there, you know,” he says. “Join the festivities.”  
  
Barebone’s ears are red when he looks up. “I don’t think anyone would like that,” he mutters and finally opens his book.  
  
“Stick with your year and it’ll be fine,” Percy says with a dismissive wave of his hand.  
  
“Why aren’t you out there?”  
  
Percy frowns. “Not only am I taking numerous HARE-level classes but I’m also running the Duelling Club every Friday night and have to arrange the duels for it every week,” he says. “I don’t have time for haunted corn mazes and bobbing for dirigibles.”  
  
Barebone raises his eyebrows and looks down at his book. “It sounds like you need to be out there more than I do.”  
  
Percy frowns more irritably, glad Sera and Fontaine aren’t around to loudly agree with Barebone. “Everyone out there is going to be crying come exams in December because they won’t have taken our professors seriously about our sixth year,” he says. “And Merlin help them next year because of it.”  
  
Barebone looks at him again and he’s smiling, though it’s a tiny thing, and Percy shifts uncomfortably, because his stomach tightens to see it.  
  
“You’re very serious about your future.”  
  
“Of course I am,” Percy says. “Aren’t you?”  
  
“I probably don’t have the aspirations you do.”  
  
“What are your aspirations?”  
  
“Not failing all of my classes mostly. I’ll probably work in an apothecary or brewery.”  
  
Percy has long since noticed the only HARE-level class they share is Potions and that Barebone is good with them, as long as no one is looking in his general direction, so that makes sense.  
  
“Brewing potions for a living is a big enough aspiration,” he says. “Not a lot of people have the patience for it.”  
  
Barebone shrugs. “Probably why I’d be okay at it,” he says. “What are you going to do?”  
  
“I’m applying for the Auror training program as soon as possible,” Percy says. “I expect I’ll be accepted into it after finishing here.”  
  
Barebone looks out of the window and chews on his lip for a while. “Did you always want to be an Auror?”  
  
“Yes. Runs in the family,” Percy says warily, because he doesn’t like the look on Barebone’s face or the tone of his voice. “Don’t tell me you have experience with Aurors already, Barebone.”  
  
He gets no immediate answer. Barebone merely stares out of the window before he closes his book and stands from the chair. He walks out of the library and Percy watches him go, a little dumbfounded.  
  
“What the fuck,” he mutters to himself and looks down at his own book with a frown. He sighs and closes it, pulling out his wand and flicking it at the books he’d grabbed, sending them to their proper places.  
  
Percy leaves the library himself and he’s prepared to go to their dormitory room and apologize but he stops in the quiet hallway and hums. Barebone won’t be in the dormitory, because Percy might go there and he’s clearly offended him, though he doesn’t know how.  
  
He looks to his right, at a classroom that’s not been in use for as long as Percy has been here, and walks to the door. He opens it and steps inside and sighs to see that Barebone has traded staring longingly out of the window in the library to staring longingly out of the window in here, sitting on a dusty table near one of the thin, vertical windows.  
  
Barebone looks at him. “I’m trying to look for some peace and quiet, you know,” he says, his voice wavering with either tears or anger.  
  
Percy is slightly offended at the insinuation that he is annoying or bothersome, when he actively seeks out peace and quiet for himself every day. But he decides it’s not worth being offended about and merely shrugs.  
  
“I’ve obviously offended you in some way,” he says. “I’m sorry for that.”  
  
Barebone stares at him with such a great amount of suspicion that Percy feels an immediate connection to him, because he knows what it’s like to not trust an _I’m sorry_ from people you don’t really know. He thinks they probably have too much in common but he’s not willing to talk about his life story and he doesn’t think Barebone will be either.  
  
“You practically accused me of being a criminal.”  
  
Percy furrows his brow and opens his mouth before closing it. He supposes he did, sort of, though it wasn’t his intent. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t think you’re a criminal. But I’m used to the way some people look at Aurors and you seemed to be one of them. I shouldn’t have gotten defensive about it.”  
  
“You’re not even an Auror yet,” Barebone mutters.  
  
“I told you it runs in the family.”  
  
Barebone sighs and nods as he looks out of the window. “I do have experience with Aurors but not criminally. I was questioned for a few hours by one,” he mutters. “It wasn’t a good experience.”  
  
“I don’t doubt that,” Percy says quietly as he watches Barebone with a frown. “Does that have anything to do with why you came to Ilvermorny?”  
  
“Yes,” Barebone whispers, but he doesn’t say anything beyond that.  
  
Percy sighs. “Look, Barebone, I am—”  
  
“Please don’t call me by my surname.”  
  
Percy blinks and nods. “Okay. Credence, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for offending you. I’m going back to the common room. I’ll see you later,” he says and leaves the classroom.  
  
He’s not very far down the hall when he hears footsteps behind him. He looks at Credence as he falls into step next to him, his hands fidgeting with the front of his robes. It looks like he’s working himself up to say something so Percy keeps his mouth shut as they walk down the hall.  
  
“You couldn’t have known,” Credence finally says. “So it’s okay. I just don’t like remembering it but… that’s not your fault.”  
  
“Then we’re good,” Percy says. “Right?”  
  
“Yes,” Credence says and glances at Percy. “Are all the holidays like this?”  
  
“The ones we stay in school for, yes,” Percy says. “Most students go home for Christmas and Easter. But there are feasts and festivities on Thanksgiving.”  
  
“I’ve never celebrated the holidays like that,” Credence says quietly and with some embarrassment. “I wasn’t sure if I should eat the food or just admire it.”  
  
Percy huffs a laugh. “You did eat eventually, didn’t you?”  
  
“Some of it,” Credence says. “It’s hard to eat when people stare at you.”  
  
Percy nods. “Yeah, I can imagine it is,” he says. “It’ll stop soon. It’s only your first week. Everyone gets distracted by something new every week it seems, but if I were you, I’d still try and find friends. You could actually join us when we inevitably talk for a couple hours tonight.”  
  
“Maybe,” Credence says but there’s some lightness to his voice Percy hasn’t heard yet. “I wish I had more of those chocolate tarts though. A bit more of everything, actually.”  
  
“That wouldn’t be hard to get,” Percy says and smiles when Credence looks at him with confusion. “Come on, this way.”  
  
He leads Credence down the stairs rather than further up the castle. He takes him below the main floor, under the Great Hall, and stops at a large painting, taller than them both, of wizards enjoying a meal at a table.  
  
Percy holds up his wand and drags it across the canvas in a curve and presses three times above the first line. A banana split appears in the painting and the wizards cheer, as if they haven’t seen it a million times, but the portrait swings open and Percy gestures Credence inside.  
  
“Is there a door behind every portrait?” Credence asks in a bit of a daze as they step into a short hall that leads to an open archway.  
  
There’s quite a lot of banging going on, but the smells of the feast are still strong and Percy leads Credence into the kitchens. “Not every. Probably far more than we’ll ever know though,” he says as they step into the kitchens proper.  
  
The house elves there greet them happily and ask if they’d like pumpkin or pomegranate juice first before Percy tells them a little bit of everything from the feast, if there’s anything left, which pleases them greatly because there’s always something left.  
  
Credence looks overwhelmed as he gazes around the massive kitchens and at the house elves, politely thanking them whenever they add to a box they’d shoved into his arms. He seems to have trouble holding it after a while and Percy flicks his wand at it until it levitates.  
  
“I think that’s about enough for one night,” Percy says as a house elf sets a bowl filled with numerous meringue ghosts inside. “Thank you.”  
  
“Thank you, sirs, thank you!” she squeaks. “Leave the dishes for Lorrie, please, sirs.”  
  
“We will,” Percy says and tries not to laugh at the look on Credence’s face as he peers down at the box. “Good night.”  
  
After a wave of _good night, sirs_ from the house elves, Percy leads Credence out of the kitchens and back upstairs. “Hey, you wanted a bit of everything,” he says when he catches Credence staring at the box and looking overwhelmed again.  
  
“I didn’t mean for the entirety of Wampus House,” Credence mutters, a blush on his cheeks. “But thank you. I didn’t know we were allowed in the kitchens.”  
  
“We’re not, really, but the house elves love when students visit them. They always have food on hand to give,” Percy says as they follow the box up staircases. “Just don’t offend them and they’ll happily welcome you back.”  
  
“I’m glad I didn’t offend them,” Credence says. “I’ve never actually seen a house elf before.”  
  
Percy looks at him in surprise but he doesn’t ask, because he’d probably upset Credence again. But if he was homeschooled, it was obviously by a witch or wizard - or both of his parents, possibly - and the idea that he’s never come across a house elf before is a strange one.  
  
Not that his family might not have one, only wealthy families do, usually, but they’re still fairly easy to come across in wizarding shopping centers or neighborhoods.  
  
“Now you’ve seen about fifty,” Percy says instead and feels his belly tighten again, when Credence smiles.  
  
They make it into the common room, which is thankfully empty, and head up to the dormitory. The amount of plates and bowls really is ridiculous, when Percy conjures a table in the middle of the dorm to set them on, his own cheeks a little hot when Credence gapes at him for doing so.  
  
“I told you I’m taking HARE-level Transfiguration,” he says as he sends the plates and bowls to sit on the table. “You better eat all of this.”  
  
Credence grins and that doesn’t help Percy at all, but he does get a couple of stuffed peppers and eyeball puff pastries, along with one of the forks the house elves had given them.  
  
They sit on the edges of their beds and Percy enjoys pumpkin soup and finger foods, but he’s eyeing the chocolate tarts himself for later.  
  
“I had to pass some exams to get here,” Credence says after a while. “To see how far behind I was, I think. I was surprised when they told me I could take the HARE-level Potions class. I have to have remedial lessons in Transfiguration though.”  
  
“One of the hardest branches of magic to learn,” Percy says. “So don’t be too hard on yourself about it. Especially if it’s the only remedial class you have to take. How’s Defense for you?”  
  
“I’m not bad with it,” Credence says with a shrug. “Not HARE-level but I also don’t need to be. But I’m best in Defense and Potions. Then Charms.”  
  
Percy nods as he grabs a handful of chocolate tarts and takes a bite of a bat filled with silky peanut butter. One of his vices. “Figured you’d be good at Defense if Wampus wanted you. That’s what our House excels at.”  
  
“You seem like you excel at everything.”  
  
“School is easy for me,” Percy says. “Learning always has been. Don’t worry, I fail in other ways,” he adds with amusement when Credence sighs with some kind of longing for learning to be easy for himself.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Getting along with more than two people at a time is difficult for me,” Percy says with a wry smile. “I find it much easier to teach people than talk to them.”  
  
Credence hums as he grabs a few chocolate tarts as well. “I’m not good at talking with anyone,” he says and smiles when Percy raises his eyebrows in put-on surprise. “I know, it’s hard to believe.” He looks down at the tarts in his hand and shrugs. “I’ve never had friends. Or been around people my age. Not regularly.”  
  
Percy is starting to get a better picture of what Credence’s life was like before coming to Ilvermorny and he doesn’t like it. “You’re a normal person, you know,” he says. “Talk to us when you’re in here. You’ll find friends here. Or be pointed toward people you might like better. We’re all in Wampus and Houses tend to stick together and look out for each other. When you find the right friends, it’ll feel like you’ve known each other for a long time already.”  
  
“That’s how it was for you?”  
  
“I didn’t really have friends before I came here either,” Percy mutters. “I grew up on an estate with no neighbors nearby. I made friends my first day in my first year and they’re still my friends today.”  
  
“Theo and Sera?”  
  
Percy glances at Credence and nods. He’s paying attention, even if he’s not participating. “Fontaine and I will join the Auror program together,” he says. “Sera’s going to be President.”  
  
Credence laughs. “So you’re going to be Director of Magical Security and Sera is going to be Madam President someday? Do you have every single year planned out in a journal somewhere?”  
  
Percy smirks and shrugs. “Maybe,” he says. “We’re both very sure of what we want.”  
  
“I know you said being an Auror runs in the family, but isn’t it competitive? How do you know you’ll be Director someday?”  
  
“Because I am the best student this school has seen in fifty years,” Percy says simply. “And the best in Defense for even longer. I started the Duelling Club and Headmistress Aurora trusts me to run it by myself and see to it that no one gets injured. I’m destined for the Director’s seat.”  
  
Credence gazes at Percy with a smile and shakes his head. “Aren’t most Directors in their forties or so? You’ve got a long way to go.”  
  
“I’ll be there in fifteen years,” Percy says and shrugs when Credence raises his eyebrows. “Guaranteed.”  
  
Credence smiles more and takes a bite of a tart. “I wish I could see my own future so well,” he says with some cheek. “Maybe I wouldn’t be such a mess.”  
  
Percy chuckles. “You’ll be okay. By Christmas you’ll have an idea of what your future will look like too. Sleeping well and eating well would also help.”  
  
“How do you know if I’m sleeping well or not?”  
  
Percy glances at Credence. “You have nightmares, right?” he asks. It wipes the smile off of Credence’s face and Percy shakes his head. “I do too. Sometimes I’m awake when you are because of my own.”  
  
Credence is paler and he looks away, a heaviness to his shoulders. “I’m sorry if I’ve woken you.”  
  
“Don’t be. I’ve woken everyone in here too,” Percy says. It’s true that he used to, in his first and second year, but he’s learned to manage them so he never wakes up with a shout or crying loud enough to disturb people. _“You’re_ not waking everyone, Credence,” he adds when he sees him grimace. “They’re always asleep.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“I just do,” Percy says.  
  
He doesn’t want to tell Credence he knows the differences between _awake_ and _asleep_ because sometimes it meant the difference between _pain_ and _escape._ He thinks of all the people he knows at Ilvermorny, Credence would probably understand, but Percy doesn’t have the desire to tell him what his own home life is like.  
  
Fontaine barely knows.  
  
And it’s not worth upsetting Credence.  
  
They don’t say anything more about it as they pick through more food, though they don’t even finish half of it before they’re both too full for another bite. They talk about different things, Quidditch and other sports, which they both have no interest in. When Credence mentions what difficulties he’s having with Transfiguration, Percy gives him a few pointers.  
  
They’re in the middle of transfiguring a few silver plates into goblets when the door opens and Fontaine, Willows and Creavey step inside. They stop and stare at the table covered in quite a lot of food still before looking between Percy and Credence.  
  
“Did you bring up the entire kitchens?” Willows asks in disbelief. “Are you having a Transfiguration lesson? Oh, come on,” he groans, when Fontaine and Creavey step over his bed to get to their own, since the table is taking up the rest of the dorm.  
  
Percy smirks a little when Willows waves his wand at his sheets to clean them. “Would you like to join us?”  
  
“I would like some meringue,” Willows says as he grabs a few and sits down on his bed.  
  
Fontaine and Creavey help themselves to a few different things as well and Percy tells them that Credence is behind in Transfiguration. Credence looks betrayed for a moment, until the other boys begin to pile on pointers of their own, with no judgment at all. Creavey demonstrates transfiguring a plate into an alarm clock, which immediately begins to shriek and wail until Percy flicks his wand and it becomes a plate again, wobbling on the table.  
  
“We all have struggles,” Creavey says dryly. “Everything I transfigure shrieks, even otherwise quiet objects, and I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong. Professor doesn’t know either, she only marks me off a bit for it because I get it right otherwise.”  
  
Percy looks at Credence and smiles a little, to himself, to see that Credence doesn’t look so frightened anymore. He looks like a normal sixteen year old, sitting in an Ilvermorny dormitory with his friends and discussing classes.  
  
He lays back on his bed and puts his hands under his head and listens to them all speak to each other and joke around. Credence doesn’t quite do that himself, but he takes their teasing easily enough and with good grace.  
  
It’s nice to listen to.  
  
“Maybe sit with us tomorrow,” Willows says with some amusement. “You might like it better than by yourself. I am an immensely funny individual after all.”  
  
“Really? When?” Creavey asks and snickers when Willows sends a rude hand gesture his way.  
  
“Theo and Percy can give you more tips for Transfiguration at meals too,” Willows says. “You’ll be out of remedial before you know it.”  
  
“Alright,” Credence says. “Thank you. All of you.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Fontaine says and reaches into his robes. He pulls out a small, half empty bottle of firewhiskey. “Finish the night with a round?”  
  
Percy sits up and they laugh.  
  
“Knew that’d get you moving,” Fontaine says as he tosses Percy the bottle.  
  
“It’s no Pure Malt,” Percy says. “But it’ll do.” He takes a drink and when he tosses it to Credence after, he says, “The way I did. No more than that.”  
  
“I wonder what a drunk Barebone is like,” Willows says curiously.  
  
Credence grimaces as he smells the firewhiskey, but he takes a drink, smaller than Percy’s and coughs a little. “I’d probably cry a lot,” he says as he tosses the bottle to Willows.  
  
Percy smiles when they laugh and watches Credence smile too, like he can’t help it. He looks at Percy then and his smile only widens. It has the effect of tightening his stomach all over again and the warmth in his chest from the firewhiskey seems to spread to his fingers and toes.  
  
It’s probably not a good thing. But Percy ignores that thought because it’s getting late and their stomachs are full and the firewhiskey has warmed their bones. Percy vanishes what food they didn’t eat and once he’s organized the plates, he shrinks the table until they - or at least house elves - can get around it more easily.  
  
They’ll be asleep when they do anyway.  
  
After changing into pajamas and muttering good nights to each other, Percy grabs his curtain to close it and sees Credence grabbing his own curtain. They smile at each other before closing them.  
  
Percy lays down and looks up at the dark ceiling, tired and warm and more comfortable than he’s been in a while.  
  
No, this definitely can’t be a good thing, but he’s asleep before he can worry more about it.  
  
——  
  
It gets easier for Credence after that, Percy can see.  
  
He sits with them during meals and sometimes outside of them too, with Fontaine and Percy, or Willows and Creavey. He meets Sera and she likes him, mostly because he’s not loud or obnoxious, but she likes him because Percy likes him too.  
  
And he truly does. He likes Credence far more than he should, a little more each day, he thinks, and is only glad they’re all so busy there really isn’t much time beyond meals and in their dorm room before bed to talk much.  
  
But Credence does come to the library often to study, as do most sixth and seventh years, and most people know by now to leave Percy to a table by himself, unless they’re one of his friends, and when Credence sits next to him one day, he has no reason to tell him to go elsewhere.  
  
Credence is one of his friends now.  
  
It becomes a routine through the rest of November and into December. They don’t talk much beyond the occasional grumbling or a question from Credence that Percy answers easily enough.  
  
The last Duelling Club before the holiday break comes on the Friday before exams are set to start and Percy was tempted to call it off, as everyone could use the night to study, but when he mentioned it to Manpreet, who sometimes helps him wrangle the younger students, she’d burst into tears and begged him not to, because it was the only thing keeping half of them sane.  
  
It was all rather dramatic, but Percy keeps it on and there are only a few students missing, in the end, when he gets the duelling started.  
  
Credence is there, Percy notices after the first few duels, leaning against the wall, half hidden in shadow. He doesn’t want to participate - though duels have long been assigned already - and Percy doesn’t blame him for that but he doesn’t think he should feel so damn happy to see him. Or like he could take on the world.  
  
Or shout from rooftops.  
  
He’s known Credence for less than two months and he’s the worst problem Percy’s ever faced in school and there’s nothing even unpleasant about it.  
  
Percy does his due diligence in making sure no one is injured enough to need to go to the hospital wing, though there will always be bumps and bruises. He trusts his fellow students, rooting out the trouble makers typically by the second meeting of each year, and though some take it more seriously than others, it’s about unity and morale. And fun too, he supposes.  
  
Once the winners of this week's duels have been notated and Percy tells a few who lost where they went wrong, when they ask, students linger around to discuss the duels. Percy walks over to Credence, who is still leaning against the wall, and he smiles when he sees Credence’s own smile.  
  
“You don’t have to watch from back here,” Percy says as he leans against the wall next to Credence. “You’re not going to be picked to duel randomly.”  
  
“I know that,” Credence says. “It’s not a bad view from right here.”  
  
“You probably can’t see anyone’s footwork though and that’s important.”  
  
Credence laughs. “It’s important if you want to know how to duel,” he says. “Which I don’t think I’ll ever want or need to.”  
  
“Everyone should know how to duel,” Percy mutters darkly. “Better to know and never need to than need to and not know.”  
  
“I think the average person isn’t involved in any duels,” Credence says and knocks his elbow against Percy’s. “You’re really good. Your wandwork is so fast.”  
  
“Thanks. Practice makes perfect,” Percy says and smiles. “You ready for Monday?”  
  
“No,” Credence says with a sigh. “It’s going to be a really long week.”  
  
Percy nods. “Exam weeks always are,” he says. “Are you going home for Christmas?”  
  
He hasn’t asked Credence this because anytime they come close to each other’s home lives in conversation, they both tend to swiftly change the subject, but it seems natural to ask him when it’s just a week away.  
  
“No,” Credence says softly. “I’m staying in the castle. I’m glad I get to, though Headmistress Aurora said only a handful of students do. You?”  
  
“I am one of those students,” Percy says with a wry smile. “Christmas here is far better than at home.”  
  
Credence gazes at him, biting his lip. “You don’t have any other family away from home?”  
  
“Well, there’s my sister. She’s got an apartment in Manhattan,” Percy says. “But my father would never give me permission to go there and I have to have it. He wouldn’t say no for any particular reason,” he adds with annoyance. “Only because we’d enjoy ourselves and he doesn’t like that.”  
  
“My mother was the same way,” Credence says quietly. “It’s best not to be around them at holidays, isn’t it? What’s your sister’s name?”  
  
“Eliza,” Percy says with a faint smile. “She’s twenty-two. Works at a boutique in Manhattan.”  
  
“So you’ll be able to see her often when you’re there too,” Credence says and smiles. “I’ve lived in Manhattan my whole life.”  
  
Percy raises his eyebrows. “Really?” he asks. “Upstate for me. Where in Manhattan?”  
  
“Pike Street,” Credence mutters and looks down at his shoes. “Until I was eleven. Then Midtown.”  
  
Percy eyes Credence. He thinks Credence must have moved away from Pike Street, mostly poor no-majs from Percy’s understanding, to Midtown because of his Ilvermorny letter. Maybe to go live with his father or someone else entirely, who clearly didn’t do him any good either. He did say his mother _was_ the same way as Percy’s father and Percy is curious, immensely so, but he doesn’t think he should ask.  
  
“You’ll like it here on Christmas day,” Percy says instead. The castle is already decorated, but there will be more to see and do come Christmas Eve. “It’s nice to have the run of the castle. Our professors don’t really care what we do as long as they don’t have to fix it.” He smiles when Credence does. “We could probably go down to Ilvermorny Village, if you wanted, now that we have time for it.”  
  
“How far away is it?”  
  
“Just two miles,” Percy says. “When a couple hundred students aren’t roaming around, it’s a nice place to be. The candy shop has a bar that serves butterbeer and a lot of different hot chocolates and other sweet drinks, if you like those.”  
  
“I’ve never had butterbeer before,” Credence says thoughtfully.  
  
Percy sighs as he looks out at the other students. “Okay,” he says. “We’re going to the village. Christmas Eve morning.”  
  
“I know I’m behind on a lot of things.”  
  
“You and I both know that’s not your fault,” Percy mutters. “We’ll have a good time.”  
  
“Thanks, Percy.”  
  
“Mhmm.”  
  
Percy might only be sixteen years old but he thinks if he came across Credence’s parents or guardians or whoever caused him to miss out on so much, he’d have a few things to say to them.  
  
——  
  
Percy doesn’t particularly understand the stress and exhaustion that comes with exams. The days are long for him because he tends to double and triple check his answers, but the occasional burst of tears or angry rambling from other students in the exam hall seems dramatic to him.  
  
He feels good finishing each exam. Like a little bit of life has been breathed into him and by the next Friday evening, at dinner, once all exams have been finished for the term and students will pack to go home tomorrow, he feels rejuvenated.  
  
“Merlin, he’s glowing,” Willows mutters as he picks at his food. “I don’t even have an appetite.”  
  
Fontaine, who always has an appetite, chews on a chicken wing. “If you knew you’d be getting all _Os_ before you even sat down for exams, you’d be glowing too,” he says through a mouthful. “Should’ve seen how tickled Professor Gold was in Defense. Even had the gall to say he was proud to be Percy’s professor because he was going to do _great things_ like all of the rest of us weren’t standing right there.”  
  
Percy smirks a little and looks at Credence across from him who is shaking his head. It looks fond and that doesn’t do anything for the never-ending butterflies in his stomach, but he can’t help a smile.  
  
“You did as well as I did,” he says fairly.  
  
“Hah! Merlin’s balls I did,” Fontaine says. “I _passed_ as well as you did but I’ll never be as fast as you are.”  
  
“You are as thick and tall as a tree, Fontaine, what can you expect?” Willows says as he pushes around a piece of chicken on his plate.  
  
Percy looks at Credence and raises his eyebrows. “How did you feel about Potions?” he asks, their last exam today.  
  
“Good,” Credence says with a smile. “Living Death was easy enough. Memory was harder.”  
  
“Nice of her to spring it on us since it was the first potion we brewed this year,” Fontaine mutters darkly. “Mine was burnt gold.”  
  
“Still gold,” Credence says and shrugs when Fontaine grumbles more. “Tawnee was in front of me, his was orange and sludgy.”  
  
They all grimace at that.  
  
Conversation eventually flows toward Christmas and what they all plan on doing for the holiday and the rest of break. Percy finds he doesn’t wish he had a good family to go home to anymore, not the way he did his first couple of years here, and Credence doesn’t particularly look like he does either.  
  
Percy enjoys Christmas in the castle, enjoys the quiet, though it’ll be odd to wake up every day in the dormitory with another person now.  
  
The others head to bed early for the train in the morning but Percy and Credence sit in the common room and talk for a while about exams and other various things, eating some of the chocolates that have been placed in bowls around the common room for the last week.  
  
Credence looks good with the golden glow of firelight on his skin, more relaxed and carefree than he’s been since he got here, and Percy tries not to stare. It’s all very bothersome that he feels this way anyway and he hopes it goes away by the time term starts up again.  
  
He’s never gone with anyone. It seems like too much trouble, with too much drama that he’s witnessed a frankly nauseating amount of times. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t had _encounters_ but he’s reluctant for that too after the last one seemed to leave a different impression than he’d meant for the sixth in Horned Serpent to have and had made for the most awkward conversation of his life.  
  
Percy doesn’t want to have that with Credence. Well, he does, but he thinks if he did and Credence got the impression that _more_ was involved, Percy would be happy to go along with that. And that’s not something he can afford anymore, not with how busy they are.  
  
He doesn’t know how anyone fits in time for romance but he supposes they’re probably the same people who burst into tears or angrily rant at their exam papers.  
  
And he doesn’t even know if Credence is interested in anyone himself. He could be, could have his eyes on someone, but Percy doubts it. He’s still too shy around people and doesn’t meet their eyes if he doesn’t know them, so he doubts he’s eyeing any of the girls in Wampus or elsewhere. Or any of the boys either.  
  
When Percy finds himself wondering if Credence has ever been kissed, he declares it time for bed and Credence doesn’t seem to mind.  
  
They’ll be able to sleep in in the morning, after the others have left and for once, Percy doesn’t mind it.  
  
Christmas is on Wednesday this year.  
  
Credence and Percy enjoy the nearly empty castle, decorated in reds and golds, greens and silvers, baubles floating in the air, towering Christmas trees in the Great Hall. There’s garland hung on the bannisters of every staircase with holly berries on them and occasionally the ceiling decides to snow for a while, snowflakes disappearing before they gather on the ground, lest students break their legs.  
  
“You won’t like it when it’s raining,” Percy says darkly when he sees Credence enjoying walking through the hallway and through the falling snow on their way out of the castle on Tuesday morning. “Especially if class is on the other side. We have to use the umbrella spell.”  
  
“That’s not so bad.”  
  
“Except for the first and seconds that don’t know it.”  
  
“Please tell me you help them.”  
  
“Well, yes, some of us,” Percy says irritably. “Others think it’s amusing to watch them run with their bags over their heads.”  
  
Credence grimaces. “A lot of older students seem to find first and second years amusing to watch.”  
  
Percy shrugs. “It comes from remembering what it was like when they were their age and not realizing they’ve become assholes about it instead of sympathetic,” he says. “Sixth and sevenths are better about it. Mostly.”  
  
“I’ve noticed that,” Credence says with a smile. “I can’t imagine coming here at eleven years old, no-maj-born. After just finding out you have magical blood! It’s got to be a shock.”  
  
“That’s about all first years talk about their first term,” Percy says with a laugh. “No-maj-born learning from wizarding families and vice versa. I feel badly for the students born in August. Especially late August.”  
  
“Getting their letter two days before term starts,” Credence says with amusement. “It would have probably killed me but I was born in April so I had some time to prepare.”  
  
Percy looks at Credence as they push open the door and step outside into the cold day, a dusting of white snow covering the grounds and the pine trees.  
  
“What day?”  
  
“The 7th. When is your birthday?”  
  
“The 3rd.”  
  
“Of April?”  
  
Percy nods and smiles when Credence laughs, a little in disbelief. “You know what that means, right?” he asks. When Credence raises his eyebrows, Percy shrugs. “We’ll be seventeen before summer break even starts.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence sighs. “Yeah. You’re not going home then, are you?”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Percy says. “Never again. Sera and I have been talking about getting an apartment together in Manhattan if we don’t stay with family. It’ll be shit but anything is better than the manor. What about you?”  
  
Credence bites his lip and shrugs as they walk down the long stairs leading to the road out of the grounds and toward the village. “I’m, umm… I’m technically a ward of the... wizarding state. I have a meeting in February with someone from MACUSA to discuss my options for living arrangements.”  
  
Percy stops walking at the bottom of the stairs and raises his eyebrows as he attempts to process that nugget of information. He stares at Credence, who looks pale and is avoiding his eye, biting hard enough on his bottom lip that it’s white.  
  
“Are they going to help you afford a place? Get a job after our seventh year?”  
  
Credence nods and looks at the ground. “Yeah, I’ll have a stipend for a while so I have the time to work. They’re waiting until February so we all know what I might be good at and they’ll help me find a job in that field after next year. Which will still probably be a potions brewery,” he says quietly. “Once they know I’m on my feet and can take care of myself, the stipend will stop. I think they feel like they owe me it.”  
  
Percy doesn’t quite know what to say. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t know if Credence will be comfortable telling him. But he’s told him this much, at least. Percy tentatively reaches out and squeezes Credence’s shoulder. He doesn’t stiffen up but he doesn’t look at Percy either.  
  
“Why would they owe you it?”  
  
“My mother… she’s a religious no-maj. A fanatic, really, and raised me that way. When Professor Gold brought my letter, she didn’t react well to knowing I was a wizard, though I know now she knew before then. She made me forget the things I could do when I was a kid. Anyway, Professor Gold had MACUSA come out and they took me away from her because… well, she wasn’t going to come around and they thought she’d be dangerous,” Credence says, in a rush, breathless. “So they looked for a wizarding family to adopt me. There was a couple with two children who talked to me but they homeschooled their kids already. When I was asked by Protective Services if I’d rather go to Ilvermorny, the thought of coming here scared me and I thought homeschooling would be okay.”  
  
“But it wasn’t,” Percy says quietly.  
  
Credence shakes his head. “It was okay at first. But they ended up a lot like my mother, fanatics in different ways, and their children were… I was happy they left home when they did, they were a few years older than me. I had started my sixth year at home when the woman from Protective Services came by to see how I was doing, she does that a few times a year, and I told her the truth. I found myself here a couple weeks later,” he says. “I know it’s a bad story, I’m sorry for that, but I think you’re the only one that might understand.”  
  
“Credence,” Percy says softly. “Don’t apologize for something you didn’t choose.”  
  
He is torn between unbelievable anger and sadness for his friend, for someone he likes more than just as a friend, but for another boy that had to deal with horrible people in his life. Abusive people who have likely left their mark, as Percy has experienced, and his sister, and countless others.  
  
When he reaches for Credence, still unsure and not quite used to this anyway, Credence comes willingly. They hug tightly in front of the castle, no one around to see, and Percy rubs Credence’s back and listens to him sniffle. It’s no damn wonder he has nightmares, that he still cries himself to sleep sometimes, while Percy lies there wondering how to help or if he should leave well enough alone.  
  
“You talked to an Auror about that family before coming here,” Percy says quietly. Credence nods against his shoulder and Percy sighs. “I’m sorry, Credence. For all of this. You deserve better, I hope you know that.”  
  
“So do you,” Credence says thickly. “But we don’t have to deal with them anymore.”  
  
“No, we don’t,” Percy sighs in relief. “No, we don’t. Come on, let’s get down to the village and find some warmth.” He takes Credence’s hand and tugs him along before they both might start crying and not make it to the village at all.  
  
It’s not until they’ve walked through the beautiful snow covered forest and into the village, decorated brightly for Christmas, that Percy realizes they’re still holding hands. He glances at Credence, but he doesn’t seem to mind, gazing around the numerous shops and decorations as they pass them. He’s smiling, even.  
  
Percy points out a few different places to him, _The Silver Tumbler,_ which serves alcohol for adults and butterbeer or other nonalcoholic beverages for students. There’s a joke shop and a small broomshop as well, along with a cafe and a restaurant that serves a lot of different types of foods. It’s the candy shop that Credence is waiting for, Percy knows, and he tugs him toward it.  
  
It’s painted red and gold, a classic sort of look outside, but it’s bursting with color inside. It smells like roasted nuts and caramel and rich chocolate and Credence’s mouth is hanging open as he looks around, which makes Percy laugh until Credence hits his shoulder.  
  
There are barrels and buckets full of all sorts of candies and chocolates, a lot of them holiday themed. There’s taffy along one wall and the back wall is the bar that’s immensely popular for the sweet drinks they sell there. Percy remembers how much like an adult he felt, twelve years old and ordering a mug of mint hot chocolate, and smiles.  
  
There are the usual Chocolate Frogs and pumpkin pasties and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, but neither Percy nor Credence collect the cards with the Chocolate Frogs, though they both like chocolate.  
  
One wall is dedicated entirely to different types of chocolates. Honeycomb dipped in milk and dark, gummies dipped in various chocolates, chocolate caramels and creams and nougats and thick jellies. There are massive chocolate bars as well, some three feet long, wrapped in purple paper and golden aluminum with _The Sweet Palace_ written on it in swooping and delicate golden letters.  
  
There are a variety of roasted nuts in different flavors that Credence seems interested in.  
  
“Let’s get butterbeer first. Then we can shop,” Percy grins. “So you can think about it before buying everything.”  
  
It’s miraculously empty today, Percy’s favorite time of the year to come, but he thought there might be more village shoppers. Maybe it’s too early still. But one of the shop employees, Delilah, greets Percy cheerfully at the bar and Percy asks for two hot butterbeers after introducing Credence to her.  
  
They sit on red and gold stools as she pours hot butterbeer into mugs and sets them down, winking and declaring to call for her if they need her.  
  
“She barely looks eighteen,” Credence says.  
  
“She finished school this May,” Percy says and glances around to make sure Delilah isn’t lurking behind them. “She was a very popular girl. Her parents own this place.”  
  
Credence raises his eyebrows as he lifts his steaming mug. “Never mind about a potions brewery, I want to work here,” he says and takes a drink of the butterbeer.  
  
Percy laughs. “It would be fun until there are so many students you can’t find breathing room,” he says with a smile. “Well?”  
  
“It tastes like butterscotch,” Credence says and licks foam from his lips. “And vanilla cream soda.”  
  
“Mhmm,” Percy hums as he watches Credence. He takes a drink of his own. “It’s almost as good as firewhiskey at warming you up too.”  
  
“I like this much more,” Credence says. “I didn’t really enjoy the firewhiskey.”  
  
Percy smiles. “Whiskey takes some getting used to. I like Pure Malt myself.”  
  
“How much whiskey have you had?” Credence laughs. “You’re not even of age yet.”  
  
“I’ve been drinking it since I was fourteen,” Percy says and smiles in amusement when Credence gapes at him. “My father thinks you become a man faster if you start drinking early. It took a little while but I like it now. Don’t worry, I don’t imbibe that much. Especially not here.”  
  
“I hope you don’t imbibe much outside of here too,” Credence mutters and takes another drink of the butterbeer, holding it tightly in both of his hands. “You’re going to be an Auror, you can’t be a drunk.”  
  
Percy huffs. “Try telling Aurors that,” he says and smiles when Credence frowns obstinately at him. “My uncle was an Auror and he said a glass of whiskey every night kept the nightmares away.”  
  
Credence shudders a little. “I could never look at the things Aurors have to see. What you’re going to see,” he says. “Dark Arts are bad enough when learning how to defend against them.”  
  
“That’s why you’re going to brew potions,” Percy says with a chuckle. “It probably helped that my uncle told me gruesome stories starting at a very young age.”  
  
“Ugh. Is he the Director now?”  
  
“No, he’s dead now,” Percy laughs and shrugs when Credence gapes at him with some horror. “Hazards of the job, you know.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Credence mutters and frowns. “You’re not scared of that?”  
  
“Not really. I’m confident by the time I’m done with the training program and tests, which are all extremely rigorous, I’ll be plenty ready to go up against Dark Arts practitioners. And Aurors are in training all the time anyway, for new things and to brush up on skills. Sometimes they get unlucky but if that’s all you’re thinking about out in the field, you’ll make mistakes and end up in a box in the ground,” Percy says. “So I’m not going to worry or be scared of it. If it happens, it happens, but I don’t think it will.”  
  
Credence takes a drink of his butterbeer and frowns for a while as he looks down at the mug. “I used to hear when I was a kid that the wives of detectives and police officers are always scared their husbands will die. That it takes a long time to get over the fear. It must be the same with Aurors.”  
  
“I think so,” Percy says. “But every Director in recent memory has been married. I don’t think Aurors have less of a chance of getting married or having kids or anything like that.”  
  
“Are you going to one day?” Credence asks and shrugs when Percy eyes him. “You’ve got everything else planned, probably to the month or day.”  
  
Percy laughs and shakes his head. “Not quite to the day,” he says with a grin. “But close enough. No, I don’t have those things planned. I don’t want kids, I know that, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get married. Theo and Sera would probably tell you I’d be a nightmare to be married to.”  
  
“I don’t think you’d be,” Credence says with a frown. His cheeks turn pink and he looks down at his mug. “Why do they think that?”  
  
Percy shrugs. “They tell me I’m an asshole a few times a week. And probably because I’ve never gone with anyone like they have. Theo’s been stuck on this girl for three years but she’s a seventh now and has ignored him this entire time so I have to prepare for his dreams to be crushed soon. Sera has gone through about four girls since the beginning of fifth,” he says. “Frankly, they’re the ones that sound like nightmares.”  
  
Credence smiles as he looks at Percy. “Or normal teenagers,” he says. “I think you and I are probably not very normal when it comes to romance.”  
  
“You’re probably right. But it sounds like a headache,” Percy says. “Creavey cried for an entire month last year when his girlfriend dumped him. I lost a lot of sleep because of him.”  
  
“Were you mean to him?”  
  
 _“No,”_ Percy says defensively. “I found a girl I thought he’d get along with and told him she was interested in him.”  
  
Credence gasps. “You lied to him?”  
  
“Well, yeah. It made him stop crying and they went out twice. It didn’t work out but he found his confidence again anyway.”  
  
“You _are_ kind of an asshole.”  
  
“I call that a win-win situation, you know,” Percy says and takes a drink of butterbeer.  
  
“It could’ve been a bad situation,” Credence sighs. “You got lucky.” He smiles as he looks out at the shop, leaning back against the gleaming bar. “Though I don’t think you’ll ever go out of your way to hurt anybody that’s not a part of your job.”  
  
“I’d like to sometimes,” Percy says with a smirk. “But I never do seem capable of it. What about you anyway? Are you going to get married and have kids?”  
  
Credence wrinkles his nose. “No,” he says. “I don’t think so, at least. I don’t think I want kids but no one would want to marry me anyway.”  
  
“Why the hell not?”  
  
Credence frowns as he looks at Percy. “Who wants to marry a mess?”  
  
Percy furrows his brow. “You’re not a mess. Don’t think that way.”  
  
“I am too,” Credence says. “And I don’t think I’ll ever not be.”  
  
“Just because you had shit people for parents or would-be parents doesn’t make you a mess that no one would want to marry.”  
  
Credence is quiet for a while before he shakes his head. “Maybe you’re right,” he says in a breezy sort of way that Percy knows is bullshit, to switch the subject. “I suppose we never know what life will be like in ten years. Except you.”  
  
Percy eyes him but decides not to pester Credence about it. “I’m going to be a senior in ten years,” he says lightly and smiles when Credence looks at him. There’s something fond in his gaze and Percy looks down at his own mug. “Do you think you’ll still be in New York?”  
  
“Probably,” Credence says. “I don’t know anywhere else and I like it there. I think I’d miss the noise if I left.”  
  
“I like the noise after growing up in the woods myself. They’re so quiet,” Percy says. “I’ll like Manhattan too.”  
  
“We might see each other around then.”  
  
Percy smiles. “Yeah, I’m sure we will,” he says and finishes his drink. “Come on, let’s get some things to take back to the castle.”  
  
Credence finishes his own butterbeer and they explore the shop for a long while after that, getting various things, though Credence chooses less expensive things, staying away from the chocolates. Percy smiles as he watches him and grabs a few of his favorites before taking them to Delilah at the counter and paying.  
  
Once Credence has done the same, they leave the shop and step into the cold day. There are other places to see and Percy is glad to show Credence into interesting shops for a few hours. They eat lunch in the cafe but it’s getting busier with last-minute shoppers from the village and some families and they head back up to the castle, cheeks and noses red, and in good moods.  
  
It’s different visiting the village with Credence. Fontaine and Percy typically only sit in _The Silver Tumbler_ and drink butterbeers, while he tends to shop with Sera and get breakfast or lunch, but she’s his closest friend and they aren’t interested in each other.  
  
It’s different because Percy _is_ interested in Credence. He wants to tell him he’s a moron for thinking no one could be, that he’s not even likely the only one who is interested in him, but that would involve telling him. And the idea of telling Credence is probably the scariest thing he’s ever thought about doing.  
  
What if it chased Credence away? What if he had to let _Percy_ down easily? He’d never recover from the embarrassment and then they’d have to sleep a few feet away from each other for the rest of the year and the entirety of their seventh year. It could ruin his enjoyment of school or even Credence’s, though he doubts that.  
  
Percy doesn’t know how he’s going to survive the rest of holiday break, let alone the rest of the year, spending time with Credence like this.  
  
Sera and Fontaine would probably understand if he tried to fling himself from the Astronomy Tower.  
  
They eat Christmas Eve dinner together, the only two at their table, while the handful of other students have all flocked to sit together, forgetting age differences and Houses for the sake of company.  
  
Credence’s company is enough for Percy.  
  
They stay up late eating way too much sugar and Percy knows he’ll regret it at some point, but he’s never done this before. He normally reads before going to sleep on Christmas Eve and he finds he likes this much, much more.  
  
In the morning he wakes to the sun half risen and draws his curtain back. He pauses as he looks at Credence’s bed. He’s forgotten to close his curtain and the way the sunlight is cast over him is rather striking. Percy blinks dumbly at him for a while before he shakes himself and looks at the foot of his bed. There’s a small pile of presents and he’s glad to see another small pile on Credence’s bed.  
  
“Credence,” Percy says. “Wake up.”  
  
Credence’s brow furrows and it’s better than the flinch Percy has heard some mornings. He opens his eyes and squints in the sunlight, lifting his hand to block it and Percy thinks he won’t recover from this anytime soon either.  
  
“Didn’t we just go to sleep?” Credence croaks.  
  
Percy laughs. “It’s almost seven-thirty, you know,” he says and smiles when Credence squints at him. “Merry Christmas.”  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Credence says and smiles too, sitting up. He yawns and scrubs his eyes and stares at the foot of his bed for a while. He doesn’t seem to know what he’s looking at.  
  
Percy’s torn between resignation and amusement. “Those are presents.”  
  
“For me?”  
  
“Well, they’re on your bed, aren’t they?”  
  
Credence frowns and looks a little suspicious as he scoots down closer to them. He picks up a book that is filled with exceedingly rare and difficult potions recipes and looks at the tag on it, raising his eyebrows.  
  
“Theo gave me this. I’ve never even heard of this one.”  
  
Percy smiles to himself and picks up a stack of books that he knows are from Seraphina. He won’t tell Credence he’d told Fontaine what to get Credence, because Fontaine would get everyone a bottle of butterbeer if he didn’t ask for help.  
  
“Oh, Merlin,” Credence laughs and picks up a bag filled with an assortment of chocolates Percy knew he wanted but probably couldn’t pay for. “Thanks, Percy,” Credence says more softly. “This is going to last me until spring.”  
  
“Or about the end of January. Earlier if you don’t keep it hidden,” Percy says and sets the book aside that he’d told Fontaine to get him, an adventure novel that has nothing to do with schoolwork, as a treat for himself. “My sister… makes me work for my presents.”  
  
He lifts a box that feels empty, wrapped in gold paper and topped with a red bow. “It’s empty,” he tells Credence when he sees him raising his eyebrows. “Until I figure out the charm anyway.”  
  
“She’s good with charms?”  
  
“The best,” Percy says and weighs the box in his hands for a while. He looks down at the ribbon, inspecting it for a while before he huffs a laugh. “Watch.”  
  
He stands up and sets the box down in the center of the floor, leaning down to feel through the ribbon until he grabs a piece of it that’s hidden in the middle, barely noticeable. He tugs upward on it, until he’s standing and the ribbon unravels. The moment it does, the gold box springs up and when it falls again, it has a gold lid on top of it. Percy pulls it off and smiles when various orbs of red and green float out of it, gently glowing when Percy touches one.  
  
Credence is watching with a bit of awe and a wide smile. “I’ve never seen charmwork like this before.”  
  
“She designs things like this for a living,” Percy says and reaches into a box to pull out a large book and more orbs emerge then, smaller, golds and silvers now. “These are going to stick around for two weeks.”  
  
Under the book is a picture frame and Percy picks it up, smiling at the picture of himself and his sister, taken earlier this year, when she’d taken him to the station to see him off to school.  
  
He hands the picture frame to Credence because he looks to be burning with curiosity and sits back down on his bed to examine the book.  
  
It’s an assortment of wizarding children’s tales from one hundred different countries, translated to English, and he smiles as he runs his hand over the dark blue cover, its stitching gold and black.  
  
“Your sister is beautiful,” Credence says. “Her hair is so long.”  
  
“A rebel from the beginning,” Percy sighs as he looks at Credence and smiles. “If she hadn’t already been a seventh when I got here, I would’ve tried to help her fend off all the attention she got. She hated it.”  
  
“Is she married now?”  
  
“No,” Percy laughs. “She’s not a romantic person. She’s happy with friends. Though it’s funny when people try to hit on her, she’s so awkward about it.”  
  
“You mean she’s not brimming with confidence like you are?”  
  
“Sure she is, in other ways,” Percy says with a smirk. “We are both Graves’ after all. She just doesn’t do romance.”  
  
“Neither do you.”  
  
“For completely different reasons,” Percy says as he flips the book open and runs his hand over the crisp, white paper. “What did Seraphina get you?”  
  
Credence lifts up a dark orange and black sweater, Wampus colors. “She says on her tag that it’s made of material that’ll keep me warm in the cold months.”  
  
Percy stares at the sweater for a while and curses Seraphina in various different ways, because he knows how that’s going to look on Credence.  
  
“Oh… uh, it looks nice,” he says. “Probably those sheep that live in Canada that breathe fire. Their wool is supposed to keep warm for years.”  
  
“Really?” Credence asks as he runs his fingers over the sweater. “Then she knew just what to get me.”  
  
“She’s good at figuring out things people will like and find useful,” Percy says and sighs, only a little, when Credence tugs his pajama shirt off and pulls on the sweater instead. “It fits you.”  
  
“You think so?” Credence asks with a smile. “It really is warm. Not too warm though. Just right.”  
  
Willows and Creavey have gotten both Credence and Percy a deck of Exploding Snap cards. Credence says he’s never played them, not any surprise to Percy though still mildly depressing to hear, and he promises him a few games after breakfast.  
  
“I, umm… I have no idea how to make your present get on the end of your bed,” Credence says as he opens his trunk. “Do we put them somewhere?”  
  
“Yeah, the house elves collect presents throughout December and they put them on our beds while we’re sleeping,” Percy says with a warm smile as he watches Credence. “I’m sorry, I should have told you that.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Credence says and pulls out a thin rectangular box wrapped in red paper. “I can still give it to you now.”  
  
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Percy mumbles but he takes it all the same. It’s not another book, not that he’d mind that, and he finds himself rather reluctant to open it. But he won’t let Credence see that and unwraps the paper and opens the box, looking down at a scarf.  
  
It’s not Wampus colors or Ilvermorny’s either, but his preferred colors of black and white and grey and blue. It’s a nice quality, soft and warm, and he brushes his fingers over it for a moment.  
  
When Percy looks at Credence, he sees that he’s watching him with something like despair and laughs. “Credence, it’s perfect,” he says. “Really. Thank you. I hate wearing school scarves.”  
  
Credence sighs heavily in relief. “I know you do,” he says. “I thought you might like that one better.”  
  
“Where’d you get it?”  
  
“The village, yesterday. You were distracted looking at shoes and I asked for it to be sent to the school, if that was allowed, and Mister Larch said that was fine,” Credence says breathlessly. “I’m glad you like it.”  
  
“I really do,” Percy says as he runs his fingers along it again before pulling it out of the box and laying it out on his bed. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”  
  
Once they’ve gotten dressed and Percy has draped the scarf over his neck, they go down to the Great Hall and enjoy a fine Christmas breakfast. Pancakes and waffles, sausages and bacon, oatmeals of a few varieties, and a lot of eggs and toast.  
  
It’s good. More than the food, this Christmas is good, Percy thinks. Probably the best one he’s had in all his life, if he really thinks about it. He expects more good Christmases to come after this year, one last one in Ilvermorny and the rest spent with Eliza and friends. Not having to worry about the manor ever again.  
  
It would be Credence that gave him his first happy Christmas.  
  
When Percy looks at Credence as he piles bits of runny egg on toast, rambling about what he expects to be terrible at when term starts again, something bright in his eyes, color to his cheeks, he thinks this is probably Credence’s best Christmas too.  
  
——  
  
By the time term starts up midway through the first week of January, Credence and Percy are close. It’s hard not to be, each other’s only company for two weeks, but their friends notice too.  
  
Percy still spends plenty of time with Fontaine, in and out of classes, but he also increases his time spent in the library because Credence is almost always by his side when he does. It’s not hard to help him out while studying for his own classes, giving him tips and pointers for Charms and Transfiguration classes, mostly, and Credence doesn’t have to thank him, but he does every time.  
  
Sera is as dedicated to her studies as Percy is but sometimes she joins them for meals, merely so they might be able to spend some time together. Sometimes they walk the grounds together on Saturday mornings and catch each other up on various things that are happening in their Houses.  
  
He tries not to talk about Credence, not anymore than he would talk about Fontaine or Willows or Creavey, but he sees the look Sera gives him now and then.  
  
“It’s alright to like someone, Percy,” Sera tsks when he frowns at her.  
  
“It really isn’t,” Percy says firmly. “And I’m not doing anything about it before you ask.”  
  
Sera shrugs. “You might loosen up a little if you did.”  
  
“I’ll loosen up a little when I retire.”  
  
“You’re going to be grey by forty.”  
  
“Better than dead.”  
  
Sera drops it after that but not after a sigh and smile that says _you’re a fucking moron._  
  
Percy ignores it.  
  
He ignores any of the looks his friends give him for the entirety of January. He especially ignores the looks they give each other. Credence seems oblivious to this, still new to them all, despite the fact that he is firmly in their circle. But Percy is glad either way, because if he noticed it might get awkward, and Percy is trying to desperately back up a few paces.  
  
He wants to be friends with Credence but more than that can’t happen because it’s bound to go to shit and the idea of being so close to Credence after it did is unbearable.  
  
But Percy isn’t blind to the way Credence looks at him either.  
  
It gets worse, as February passes them by, and for a terrifying few days, he thinks Credence might expect him to ask him out for Valentine’s Day. Thankfully he sees Credence grimacing at the decorations in the Great Hall and when they came across a bundle of Valentine’s mistletoe hanging in the middle of a quiet hallway, Credence hit it with a well-placed Reducto until leaves and pink berries and red paper hearts laid in hundreds of tiny pieces on the ground. The ceiling had lost a small chunk of itself and after Percy had repaired it, they had run off and didn’t hear about it until a notice on the school board asked students to please not destroy any holiday decorations unless they wanted a detention.  
  
Percy doesn’t think he’ll stop laughing about it for a year.  
  
Romance is in the air though and most of the relationships started on Valentine’s Day are over by the first of March, something Percy tells Credence always happens, and to ignore the dramatics of it all for the next few weeks. Jealousy and new flings are always abound in March and the weather finally turning at the end of the month only makes it worse.  
  
A lot of students take their studying outside, Percy and Credence included, but only because Credence had asked so nicely.  
  
They’re still dressed warmly because the wind is cool but the sunshine feels good and they sit on a blanket in the grass like most other students and work on their homework due Monday.  
  
“I’m alright with nonverbal in Defense,” Credence is saying. “Charms too, but sometimes I slip up. But Transfiguration is just about impossible.”  
  
“Are they expecting that much nonverbal in remedial?” Percy asks as he writes an essay for Charms on, incidentally, nonverbal work for charms.  
  
He has another one to write for Transfiguration, but he’s already done his Defense essay. Nonverbal incantations are different for each branch of magic and their professors want them to know the theories behind it beyond just being able to do it practically in class.  
  
“Well, yes. Professor Barrington wants us to try as much as possible, we just aren’t marked down for it like you are since this is technically more of a fifth year class,” Credence says. “And I can do a lot of it but not anything before fourth year, let alone what they’re asking us to do this year. I barely understand what he’s talking about half the time.”  
  
Percy smiles as he writes another sentence. “Transfiguration is one of the hardest branches of magic, Credence. You’ll be able to drop it next year, they just wanted you to be on par with fifth year students,” he says and glances at Credence, who is waving his wand at a goldfinch Percy had conjured for him.  
  
It turns solid gold and falls over and they both grimace until Percy flicks his wand and a very exhausted goldfinch ruffles its feathers angrily.  
  
“One more time,” Credence says and points his wand at the bird. He gives it a complicated little whirl and flick.  
  
The goldfinch’s wings turn into the fine silver metal of a Golden Snitch, but it is otherwise still a goldfinch. Percy takes mercy on it when it begins to fall over and flicks his wand until the Snitch is complete.  
  
“Figure out how to put the two parts together and you’ll get it,” Percy says and smiles when Credence squints at him.  
  
“Yeah, well. Everything is easy for you, Director Graves,” he says and stretches his legs out on the blanket. “If you don’t at least struggle with Human Transfiguration next year, I’m going to start believing you’re _not_ human.”  
  
Percy smirks and turns back to his essay. “I just might. It’s a hard thing to learn,” he says. “But I’m going to have to. Fontaine and I will be using this summer to start work on Occlumency and Legilimency. It’s best to have some sort of understanding of it when you join the Auror program.”  
  
“Breaking into each other’s minds over summer break sounds like a great time,” Credence says dryly. “I’m probably going to spend the entirety of my own studying too though so I guess I can’t blame you.”  
  
“Nice that you’ll have that apartment to yourself though,” Percy says and sets his pen down to stretch his hand.  
  
“It’s so small,” Credence says but he’s smiling. “It’ll be nice to have something that’s my own though, yeah. Will you come see it over break?”  
  
Percy feels like his heart has been squeezed and not in a good way, but he’s saved from responding by a sixth from Thunderbird. He walks up to them, his blonde hair windswept, eyes bright green and freckles smattered across his face. Percy doesn’t know his name but he’s good looking.  
  
And looking at Credence.  
  
“Hey, Credence,” he says with a furtive glance in Percy’s direction. “Can I talk to you about something for a minute? Um, alone.”  
  
Percy raises an eyebrow and looks at Credence, who doesn’t look shaken by the request. He merely hops up with an _okay_ and walks a few feet away. There really isn’t anywhere to get much privacy unless they left the lawn altogether but unfortunately this means Percy gets the general gist of the conversation.  
  
The boy is asking Credence to go to Ilvermorny Village with him next weekend, for lunch in the cafe, and Percy feels something in his stomach and chest he doesn’t think he ever has.  
  
It feels like some kind of rage and despair and something that feels a little too much like inadequacy for this liking. He has the desire to leap up and scare off the boy with a well-placed jinx or by glowering hard enough or— something, anything. Something that might stop his heart from racing so hard he thinks it might just stop beating at all.  
  
Credence looks dumbfounded, so this wasn’t something he was expecting, and Percy can’t hear him stammering, but he can see him doing so, his cheeks red. He must finally come up with an answer, gesturing in Percy’s direction and that makes something in his chest roar with delight, but the boy smiles and says something that sounds like _the weekend after Easter break then?_  
  
And Credence doesn’t say no. The roar in Percy’s chest feels much angier now. Credence doesn’t say _yes,_ but he doesn’t say _no,_ and the boy walks away looking far too happy for Percy’s tastes.  
  
Credence walks back over and sits down, blinking down at his textbook for a while, his cheeks still pink. Percy looks at him warily before turning back to his essay and picking up his pen. All intelligent thought has abandoned him though and he can’t put it to the paper.  
  
“I think I just got asked out for the first time,” Credence finally says breathlessly and with no little amount of shock.  
  
“You know him?”  
  
“He’s in remedial Transfiguration with me.”  
  
 _An idiot then,_ Percy thinks victoriously, before immediately feeling bad for thinking it. Credence is in remedial and not because he’s stupid. Because horrible people didn’t let him learn to his full potential, so he can’t really judge why anyone is in remedial classes.  
  
“Hard to believe that’s the first time,” Percy says mildly while trying not to snap his pen in half.  
  
“Of course it is, I would have told you if anyone else had,” Credence says. “I didn’t… I didn’t think anyone would ever ask me out. He wanted to go to the village next weekend but we already have plans.”  
  
They do have plans. Next weekend is in between their birthdays, so they’re celebrating together and with their friends. But that only means Credence had said no to next weekend and maybe to the weekend after break.  
  
“Yeah, we do,” Percy says and stares down at his essay. “So are you going to go the weekend after?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Credence says and plucks at the blanket a few times, staring down at it. “I have to think about it.”  
  
“What’s his name anyway?”  
  
“Oh, umm… Orion Aves.”  
  
 _A stupid and horrible name,_ Percy wants to declare, but doesn’t. He merely sits up and tucks his dried essay into his Charms textbook.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever met him, but House rivalries and all,” Percy mutters. “I’m going to finish this upstairs, it’s getting too loud out here to concentrate.”  
  
It really is too, more and more students are finding their way outside to study under the sun and breathe in the new, fresh spring air.  
  
“Oh. Do you want—”  
  
“Stay out here,” Percy says with a smile as he stands. “You wanted fresh air. Keep working on Transfiguration. I’ll see you at dinner.”  
  
“Okay,” Credence says as he peers up at Percy. “See you then.”  
  
Percy smiles before heading through the castle courtyard and back inside. He finds his thoughts are racing, spinning wildly out of control, and it feels like between one blink and the next he’s in his dormitory. He tosses the Charms textbook onto his bed and draws his curtains. Instead of lying down, he grabs a change of clothes and heads for the fourth floor.  
  
He’s not a Prefect or Head Boy or Quidditch Captain, but he’s got a fair amount of accolades himself, including an award for special services to the school from his fourth year for saving a fellow student’s life, something no one really likes to talk about, including him. He’s never really keen to use the Prefects’ bathroom but he supposes he’s earned it and does occasionally like to take a dip. He doubts anyone is using it now.  
  
He’s right when he gives the password to the portrait and it swings open. Percy bolts it so no one else can come in and looks at the sunken pool in the shape of a large harp, dark green lines running along the bottom to give the effect of strings.  
  
It would be better to spend his time studying rather than sulking but he thinks he’s earned the right to sulk today and flicks his wand at the taps until they turn on hot and green bubbles fill the pool. He gets undressed and sits in the shoulder of the harp, which has a nice seat on it, and tips his head back, looking up at the intricately carved marble ceiling.  
  
Percy has absolutely no right or claim to Credence. He’s told himself a million times since he met him that he couldn’t become anything more than his friend. He wants to, certainly, but he doesn’t want the drama or heartache of it ending, because kids their age don’t typically stay together. And besides, even if it all went smoothly, even if Credence wanted him and they stayed together through their seventh year, it would end after that anyway.  
  
He’s going to be way too busy with training to even entertain the thought of a relationship. Early hours and late nights and a lot of time spending days away from home. The most he’s going to want to do outside of training is studying and sleeping and that’s not fair to either of them.  
  
It’s not the right time for them and there probably won’t be a right time after either. So if Credence wants to go on a date or more with Orion Aves, Percy’s just going to have to grin and bear it. Maybe it’ll ease whatever is going on inside of his chest and help him remember why he prefers to be alone anyway.  
  
Percy stays there until the bubbles are gone and the water begins to turn lukewarm. His body certainly feels more relaxed, his shoulders not as tense, but there’s a hollowness in his chest he doesn’t like.  
  
He gets dressed and goes to the Great Hall for dinner and, with great bravery he thinks, takes his usual seat across from Credence and next to Fontaine. They’re halfway through dinner already and he grabs a few things for his own plate.  
  
“Were you in the shower?” Credence asks, gesturing at Percy’s damp hair. “I was looking for you.”  
  
“Prefects’ bathroom,” Fontaine mutters around a mouthful of cheddar biscuit. “Always smells like clover after.”  
  
Percy sighs but that is an unfortunate side effect of the green bubbles. “Felt like relaxing my shoulders,” he says with a shrug when he sees Credence frowning.  
  
“I didn’t know you could use the Prefects’ bathroom. Or did you sneak in?”  
  
“I have permission,” Percy says with a smirk. “I rarely use it though. Who has the time for a long bath more than once or twice a year?”  
  
Credence’s cheeks are pink when he looks down at his plate. “Oh,” he says. “I’d probably be in there once a week.”  
  
“Become Head Boy next year and you can be,” Fontaine says with a snicker. “Or sweet talk Percy into giving you the password.”  
  
“That would be breaking the rules, Mister Fontaine,” Percy says while ignoring the annoying swooping of his heart at just the idea of Credence attempting to sweet talk him for anything.  
  
“Why aren’t you a Prefect?” Credence asks as he looks at Percy.  
  
“I asked Headmistress Aurora not to make me one last year,” Percy says. “I’m too busy this year to tend to students and the castle on top of it.”  
  
“Wouldn’t it look good when you’re applying to be an Auror?”  
  
“As long as my exams come back with _Os,_ it doesn’t really matter. Taking points away from students and being in charge of decorating the castle for holidays isn’t all that impressive honestly. Head Boy might be more so but I don’t want that either. My merit comes most from the Duelling Club.”  
  
“I suppose the Auror department would find that impressive,” Credence mumbles and there’s something in his voice, something not quite right, but Percy isn’t feeling particularly curious or comforting at the moment.  
  
“You think he’s serious now,” Willows says to Credence with a smirk, “wait until he actually is an Auror. We’ll never see him again after, not until we see him in the paper someday giving interviews, forgetting what a sense of humor is, thinking he’s too good for us peasants. He’s nearly there already.”  
  
Percy gives him a rude hand gesture. “I am looking forward to putting up a _no smiling_ sign in the department,” he says and smiles shortly when Fontaine snorts at his side.  
  
Credence gets up from the bench. “I’m going to the dormitory. I’ll see you all later,” he says and walks off toward the Great Hall’s doors.  
  
“Alright, what in Merlin’s name is going on with you two?” Creavey asks the moment Credence is out of earshot. “Are you arguing? Were you mean to him?”  
  
Percy frowns. “Of course not,” he says irritably. “We’re not arguing.”  
  
“You were probably mean to him,” Fontaine says. “Merlin knows Barebone won’t argue with anyone about anything, even if _someone_ is an asshole to him.”  
  
“I wasn’t,” Percy says with forced patience as he stuffs a bite of clam chowder into his mouth.  
  
“You’re an asshole to everyone,” Willows says and smirks. “Try not to bring it into the dormitory.”  
  
Percy ignores them for the rest of dinner, mostly because he’s trying to figure out if he _was_ an asshole. He’d tried to hide his annoyance from Credence as best as he could and it’s not like they’re stuck at the hip - they spend plenty of time apart, so Credence couldn’t have been offended when he left earlier.  
  
He’s not offended that Credence left dinner early without finishing his plate yet again after all. Credence seemed upset, yes, but that happens fairly regularly and sometimes about nothing at all, though Percy knows that isn’t true, even if no one else does. Credence is easy to read, but right now Percy hasn’t got a clue why he’s upset.  
  
Credence has been asked out for the first time today and though the thought makes his chest roar again, Percy would expect him to be thrilled about it.  
  
Glumly, he thinks Credence will be soon, once the shock has worn off.  
  
After dawdling in the hall for a while, until Fontaine sighs in irritation for the fourth time, Percy leaves with him and they head up to the dormitory. When they step inside, Percy sees that Credence’s curtains are drawn, but he hears the scribbling of a pen on paper and supposes he’s finishing homework.  
  
Percy sits on his own bed and closes the curtain as well, picking up his Charms homework to do the same thing.  
  
It’s fine. By morning, it’ll be back to the way it usually is.  
  
——  
  
It’s not fine by morning.  
  
It’s not fine even a few days later, March 27th, and Percy is feeling a bit frayed at the edges. He needs to fix this, whatever in Merlin’s name has broken, because he can’t handle it anymore. It’s distracting him from homework, from classes, and on the 8th of April everyone will be leaving for the Easter holiday. More students stay behind than for Christmas, but only a few handfuls, and Percy won’t spend the entire time alone with Credence with the way they are now.  
  
They’re polite to each other, but they tend to not get close to each other’s orbit anymore, and Credence hasn’t been asking for help either. He’s taken to studying in their dormitory rather than at Percy’s side in the library.  
  
Credence has never shown interest in Quidditch but he goes to a match with Creavey and Willows on Saturday and Percy takes a walk around the grounds with Sera and ignores the occasional roar of delight or anger down at the pitch.  
  
She tells him to apologize and he’s rather sure he didn’t do anything wrong, but he thinks it’s the best course of action anyway. So he’ll do that tonight, because they’ll be celebrating their birthdays next weekend and he won’t have it be an awkward affair.  
  
So by that night, after fighting his way through the packed common room, filled with students talking about the match and winning it, Percy looks for Credence. He can’t find him anywhere and he’s not in their dormitory either. Asking Creavey and Willows gets him precisely nowhere and he can’t wander the entire castle as it’s approaching curfew anyway.  
  
Percy waits in the dormitory and only hopes Credence comes up before anyone else. He’d wait for him in the common room if the noise hadn’t started to give him a headache. They’ll all be down there for a while anyway and he knows Credence dislikes that sort of hubbub as much as he does.  
  
He’s right, in the end, because Credence steps through the door when it opens not long after the thought. He glances at Percy and gives him a grimace rather than a smile as he toes off his shoes.  
  
Percy steels himself and sits up. “I was looking for you,” he says. “I thought you’d still be with Willows and Creavey.”  
  
Credence glances over as he pulls off his robes and shirt and pulls on pajamas. “I was talking with Orion after a while when the match ended. We were taking a walk outside.”  
  
Apology off the table.  
  
Friendship over.  
  
Percy closes his eyes briefly and forces himself to ignore that voice. He smiles instead. “Oh,” he says and shrugs. “I suppose if you want to go out with him you should get to know him a little better.”  
  
Credence furrows his brow. “I don’t want to go out with him,” he says. “I was telling him that. He took it alright, but we were talking about class for a while.”  
  
Percy blinks one, then twice, and doesn’t know if it’s elation he feels or something else. He does know his heart feels like it’s going to burst. “I know you said you had to think about it, but I was under the impression you still liked him.”  
  
“I do like him,” Credence sighs. “Just not in that way.”  
  
“Oh,” Percy says and forgets for a while what he’d meant to say to Credence. But when he sits on his own bed, he looks at Percy.  
  
“Did you need to talk to me about something?”  
  
Percy remembers then and clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says. They stare at each other for a few minutes before Percy sighs. “I have obviously offended you in some way. I’m not sure what I did, but if you’d like to tell me, I’ll make sure not to do it again. I’m sorry.”  
  
Credence frowns for such a long time that Percy is tempted to apologize again, if the first one didn’t sound sincere. “You didn’t offend me,” he finally says, quietly. “It’s not you,” he adds when Percy gives him a pointed look. “Not really anyway. I just… things are going to be different after we finish school.”  
  
Percy raises his eyebrows. “Yes,” he says slowly and doesn’t know why that matters. “We’ll be working adults.”  
  
“We won’t be friends anymore. Any of us. Well, besides you and Theo.”  
  
“Where the hell is that written?” Percy asks with genuine confusion. “You and I are both going to be in Manhattan. Willows and Creavey are better friends but I imagine we’ll all hear from them now and then.”  
  
Credence’s eyes look bright, something Percy never likes to see. “You’re not going to have any time for friends. You don’t really seem the type to hold onto friendships after school.”  
  
Percy stares at Credence and thinks he finally understands why this all started and exactly when it did. “Willows calls me an asshole, but he’s one too. Credence, I’m not going to look down on my friends once I leave here. Sera and Fontaine and I will have an easier time of it when we’re all in MACUSA, maybe. But of course I’m going to want to see you still after school,” he says. “You’re one of my best friends.”  
  
He knows without a doubt that it’s true when he says it and that he fully intends on seeing Credence still, even if the thought had scared him before.  
  
Credence watches Percy as he talks and looks down at his knees when he’s done. He swipes at his cheeks in embarrassment. “Oh,” he mumbles. “I’m not very good at this friends thing.”  
  
“You’re fine at this friends thing,” Percy says. “But no one has ever stuck around for you, so I get it. I’m not going to be one of those people.” He sighs and stands, moving to Credence’s bed and sitting next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders until Credence leans against him. “You’re not going to be alone once we leave here next year.”  
  
Credence sniffs and nods and doesn’t say anything for some time. “Okay,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I guess I was scared I’d never see you again. I thought you were mad at me too.”  
  
“I’m not,” Percy says. “And I haven’t been. Why would I be anyway?”  
  
“You looked angry when Orion asked me out,” Credence says quietly. “I thought you might have… well, anyway, I know that’s not true. We’re okay then?”  
  
Percy’s head is spinning. He looks at his bed for a minute, blinking and feeling his heart race. He’s wildly out of his element here and uncomfortable too. Uncomfortable because Credence had seen it, even though he tried to hide it, but he supposes he’s not giving any Credence any credit if he thinks he can’t read Percy as well as Percy can read him.  
  
“I wasn’t angry,” Percy says. “I was upset though.”  
  
“...why?” Credence asks and it’s with some fear that Percy completely and utterly empathizes with.  
  
“Because I like you,” Percy says and feels a cold sweat on his forehead. “I’ve liked you from the beginning but I convinced myself it wasn’t a good idea. I suppose I was jealous watching someone else ask you out.”  
  
Credence isn’t quite stiff, but he’s not really moving either. He swallows audibly. “I, umm… well, I definitely don’t have the courage to do it myself. But I hoped you would ask me one day. I like you too, Percy.”  
  
Percy could sing. Or maybe shout from the Astronomy Tower. He could take on the world and defeat all the bad in it in a single night.  
  
He looks at Credence instead and Credence looks back, his eyes red-rimmed but no longer bright with tears.  
  
He turns more toward Credence and moves his arm around his waist rather than his shoulders and when Credence’s lips part, Percy knows he’s done in for, probably for forever. He rests his hand over Credence’s cheek and Credence meets him in the middle.  
  
The kiss is good, even though Credence has clearly never kissed anyone before. The way he fumbles with it, the way he grips at Percy’s shirt like he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands, and the way he doesn’t shy away from it, is all incredibly endearing.  
  
They kiss for a while, until Credence gets the hang of it, until he’s a little bold himself, taking the lead and Percy happily lets him do it. They need to breathe now and then but there’s a lot of wandering hands between kisses and the way Credence’s breath hitches sometimes will probably follow Percy into his dreams.  
  
“Have you, umm…” Credence trails off, his cheeks red.  
  
“I’ve kissed a few different people,” Percy says and kisses one of those cheeks. “Nothing serious.”  
  
“Have you done more?”  
  
That question sends Percy’s blood rushing downward and he blinks a few times to get out of the fog of sudden arousal because it’s too soon for it. “A little,” he admits. “Not much though.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence whispers and bites his lip as he gazes at Percy. “You’re not asking me.”  
  
“Well…”  
  
Credence hits his shoulder and Percy laughs. “You’re right though,” Credence says with a smile that’s finally got some cheek to it. “What does this mean now?”  
  
Percy shrugs. “Whatever you want it to,” he says. “I know I’d like to take you out here and in Manhattan and preferably call you my boyfriend when I do it.”  
  
“Yeah,” Credence says with a growing grin. “I think I’d like exactly that too.”  
  
There’s quite a lot of kissing after that and though their beds aren’t really meant to hold two, especially not two who have both grown half a head in the last five months, they make it work.  
  
Thankfully they’re only talking when the dormitory door opens and Fontaine, Willows and Creavey step inside.  
  
 _“Finally,”_ Creavey and Willows groan together.  
  
“Ugh,” Fontaine says. “If I hear you kissing when I’m trying to sleep, I’ll jinx you both.”  
  
“Not if I jinx you first,” Percy says with a lazy smile and looks at Credence, who is bright red. Even his ears.  
  
He’s incredibly endearing all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's super fun to write them as teens (Percy was born a 40 year old man, it is known) and the same age! Times skips ahead!


	2. Chapter 2

Besides the frankly ridiculous amount of coursework, the rest of the year goes by in a way Percy has never experienced. There’s really not a lot of time for romance, but there’s just enough for him and Credence, and Percy thinks it’s a good thing, because it forces them to move slowly.  
  
Percy won’t be swayed from studying and ensuring the next round of exams are as easy as the first and Credence never disturbs that. He seems more than happy to just sit nearby and study or read the occasional non-school related book.  
  
They do find time to get some privacy out on the grounds or in empty hallways and one rather unforgettable venture into the Prefects’ bathroom.  
  
There’s a course offered to seventeen year olds for passing an Apparition test rather than going through MACUSA and though it’s an hour every day for ten days, they both pass it. Percy passes it on the third day but he sticks around to help Credence after and thankfully he never leaves anything behind.  
  
It’ll make visiting each other in Manhattan easier.  
  
The last two weeks in May seem to be two weeks spent in hell for most sixths and sevenths and Percy has a little difficulty himself on the practical exam in Charms but he recovers so admirably he doesn’t expect anything but an _O._ It might kill him if he does get an _EE_ though, but he doesn’t say it, because the boys would give him endless shit for it.  
  
He does get all _Os_ and they give him shit for it anyway.  
  
School ends and they take the train back to New York and know that when they step off of it, freedom awaits them both. Percy and Sera have both decided to look for an apartment next summer to save their money and not have to move out mere months after moving in. Sera doesn’t mind staying with her family in Georgia and for once Percy gets to stay with Eliza.  
  
She meets him on the platform and he can see the relief, the happiness in her own eyes, and if they hug for a while longer than normal, only they and Credence know why. Percy notes that he is officially half a head taller than his sister now, an odd thing to think about, and she teases him for it.  
  
He introduces Credence to Eliza and she raises her eyebrows at him in genuine but pleasant surprise and is kind to Credence, the way she is to everyone, and invites him over for dinner the very next weekend.  
  
Percy plans on seeing Credence sooner than that, but they’ve got their belongings to take to their respective homes and they kiss goodbye before leaving the platform and Disapparating away from the station and to home.  
  
The first time Percy visits Credence in his tiny apartment courtesy of MACUSA a few days later, he stays the night, and it’s special for more than one reason. They’ve both never shared what they do that night with anyone else and though it creates a few learning opportunities, it’s good.  
  
More than good.  
  
Percy is fairly sure he’s in love with Credence and once they’re midway through June, he can’t resist telling him. But Credence says it back and it’s strange, to think he’s in love with someone, but Percy thinks it could only be Credence. They’re adults now and Percy knows they’re young and he worries that their last year might change things, but he doesn’t tell Credence that.  
  
Fontaine and Percy practice Occlumency and Legilimency together a few times a week, after thoroughly reading through book after book to understand the theory. It’s the most difficult magic Percy has ever performed but he finds he’s not bad at it, once he understands it more. He’s good with both branches and Fontaine is good with Occlumency too but not so much Legilimency.  
  
They’ve both heard the horror stories of training for this magic in the initial year of Auror training and don’t plan on jumping into it without any sort of idea of what’s to come.  
  
They get into arguments now and then because Fontaine occasionally sees things Percy doesn’t want him to but Fontaine reminds him their instructor is going to see _everything,_ so he might as well stop being defensive, and it works.  
  
Percy never hears from his father and neither does Eliza. Freedom tastes sweet, something to be thrilled about even if he didn’t have Credence, but he does. And Percy has never been happier in his life.  
  
When he’s not with Fontaine, he’s with Credence, getting their homework out of the way as quickly as they can through June, so they might actually enjoy a couple months off to do nothing but have a good time.  
  
Credence shows him all sorts of places in Manhattan and Eliza invites them to have lunch in MACUSA now and then with her friends that work there, and Percy finds himself impatient to be an employee there himself. Eliza laughs at him and says she doesn’t think anyone has ever been so eager to become a working adult with adult responsibilities before and Credence tells her she should see him at school, which only makes her laugh more.  
  
Percy’s school and work ethic comes from wanting control over his life in the way he didn’t have for a long time, he knows that, and so do they, but he finds it easier to laugh about too these days.  
  
Summer flies by in a way neither Credence nor Percy have ever experienced. It’s busy but fun, full of laughter and very little pain, and Percy enjoys living with Eliza, something that hasn’t happened since she escaped the manor after her seventh year. He was only eleven then and it’s different now, so different, but she becomes his best friend all over again.  
  
It’s nearly the end of August before they know it.  
  
Credence looks a little green, knowing full well their professors aren’t taking it easier on anyone anymore, including him, who passed Transfiguration well enough. These are their last classes that will determine how much employers want to hire them and Percy knows he’ll face challenges of his own now.  
  
They thought their sixth year was busy and they both know their seventh will be far worse.  
  
Percy knows Credence will struggle especially but he’s going to be more than happy to help him where he needs it, as will the other boys, and he thinks Credence will be perfectly fine by the end of the year. Even if it’s clear Credence thinks otherwise.  
  
The night before they’re due off on the train to Ilvermorny, Percy stays the night with Credence.  
  
They stay up too late, making love and talking about the school year.  
  
“It’s going to be the same, right?” Credence asks quietly, his back pressed to Percy’s chest.  
  
Percy is glad Credence isn’t looking at him because the question surprises him. He’s had his own worries about this and he supposes it makes sense that Credence does too.  
  
He kisses the back of Credence’s neck and rubs his hip. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course it is. Less of this, maybe, but it’ll be like it was earlier this year.”  
  
When Credence doesn’t say anything, merely plucks at the comforter for a while, Percy sighs. “I promise, Credence. I already told you I fully intend on seeing you after we graduate and that was before we got together. We’ll be alright.”  
  
“Okay,” Credence says and it sounds like he wants to believe it, but his voice wavers with doubt anyway. “I’m a little afraid you’re going to get sick of me.”  
  
Percy kisses Credence’s shoulder and sits up a little to rest his chin on his arm and look down at him. “Maybe one day you’ll believe me when I tell you I love you.”  
  
“I do believe you,” Credence mutters. “I have since the first time you said it. I’m still afraid it’ll change. No one’s ever loved me before.”  
  
That is something Percy knows but he wishes it was different every day for Credence’s sake. That he could have words with the people who should have loved Credence, rather than gave him insecurities and made him afraid of being loved in the first place.  
  
“Well this someone is going to keep loving you,” he says. “So you better get used to me sticking around.”  
  
Credence smiles and turns some, to look up at Percy. “Until we’re old and grey?”  
  
“Or I die in a blaze of glory.”  
  
Credence elbows him. “Don’t say that,” he chides. “If you die, I’m going to raise you from the dead so I can kill you for daring to do so.”  
  
Percy laughs. “I don’t know, my reanimated corpse might be an attractive thing to have around,” he says and laughs more when Credence shakes him off and pushes him back on the bed so he can straddle his waist.  
  
“I’m going to invent a potion that raises people from the dead just in case,” Credence says with a smile, leaning down to kiss Percy. “Without any rot.”  
  
“As long as I come back myself, I don’t mind so much,” Percy says as he rubs Credence’s back. “You’re smart enough to do that, you know.”  
  
Credence huffs. “I doubt that,” he says and smiles. “It would probably break some moral and ethical laws anyway.”  
  
“Probably. I give you permission to date Orion Aves if I die on the job.”  
  
Credence rolls his eyes. “Stop saying it, you’ll make it happen.”  
  
“No, I won’t. I’m going to be the best Auror the department has seen in a century. Dark wizards will run from me rather than risk trying to kill me.”  
  
“Mhmm,” Credence hums with amusement. “I don’t know how we’re going to get on the train tomorrow, your head is too big to fit through most doorways.”  
  
Percy grins. “Just speaking the truth, sweetheart,” he says and kisses Credence’s nose when he wrinkles it. “We have to be up in four hours, you know.”  
  
“I know,” Credence sighs as he sits up, pressing his hands against Percy’s stomach. “We can sleep on the train. And after the feast, we’ll sleep like the dead. So you can practice.”  
  
Percy laughs until Credence shifts in a certain way that knocks a breath out of him. “Oh, I hate you. Don’t get mad at me if I’m irritated all day tomorrow,” he says. “Because it will be personal.”  
  
Credence grins cheekily. “I always manage to make you forget you’re being a jackass. I’m not worried,” he says. “Just think, Director Graves. I’m helping you build up stamina.”  
  
Percy sighs. “You’re helping me build up something anyway,” he says and smiles when Credence leans down to kiss him.  
  
Their seventh year will be good, with only minor ups and downs, but life is unpredictable and sometimes in the worst of ways, in ways that change everything, but Percy and Credence won’t remember that for some months yet.  
  
——  
  
Despite the fact that their seventh year is the most challenging yet, it goes by quickly. When they spend all of their time studying for exams, exams come faster, and the holidays pass in a blur. They do well on their exams before break, even Credence, who has been pushed to tears and tugging at his hair until Percy can pry his fingers loose.  
  
But he’s not the only one. Most students seem shell-shocked by the course load and don’t burst into tears as often, but they wander the halls like ghosts and it amuses Percy to no end. Even Fontaine, who is plenty smart and skilled enough to keep pace with what’s required by the Auror training program is prone to fits of random rage.  
  
Human Transfiguration is by far the hardest thing about their year. By the holidays, the most anyone has done is change their face to their partner’s, and Percy still hadn’t gotten it quite right. Their professor seems to expect this though and says by the end of the year they’ll have gotten it mostly right.  
  
Percy and Credence decide to stay in Ilvermorny for Christmas, mostly for privacy, though Eliza had offered her home. But it means they have the dormitory to themselves and they take advantage of it every night for two weeks. It’s good stress relief because they still study over the holidays, merely because it feels wrong not to, like they’ll fall behind if they don’t keep sharp.  
  
They’re an _enviable couple,_ according to Creavey, who is their resident gossip. They don’t particularly understand that, not even when he explains it’s because they’ve stuck together so far and never seem to argue, that they always seem close and that their relationship is clearly strong.  
  
All of that is true, though they do argue occasionally, but it’s not with aggression or meanness. But Percy thinks more people could accomplish it if they stopped being petty and immature and when he says so to Credence, Credence only mumbles that they probably grew up too fast and would likely be the same if they hadn’t.  
  
Percy realizes he’s right and tells Credence he’ll have to write the old man and thank him for being the worst parent in the world.  
  
It’s easier to laugh about it now that they have no more connections to the people who caused the scars, inside and out.  
  
The second half of the school year goes by as quickly as the first. Snow melts and spring comes, as do their eighteenth birthdays, which they celebrate down in the village with their friends and Eliza. It’s a good time and they’re not technically allowed to drink as students, but the owner of _The Silver Tumbler_ lets them have a shot of firewhiskey anyway.  
  
May comes through, warmer now, the mountain in bloom, fresh pine on the air and though it would be nice to sit out and study, they really can’t afford to be out of the library because they often need to reference other books.  
  
Exams are there before they know it and Percy has to work Credence through some panic occasionally throughout the week. He thinks he does well himself, managing Human Transfiguration even, well enough to get what he’s been working towards, but Credence seems to think he’ll have earned a _T_ on everything.  
  
But they graduate all the same, with a party and ceremony, and though they don’t have to, they take the train back to New York one last time.  
  
A few weeks later, when the post comes in, Percy has earned numerous HAREs and his achievements otherwise have been listed, which he’ll attach to his Auror application. Credence has earned all passing grades and a HARE in Potions, with remarks about the superb potion he brewed in his exam by the MACUSA official who oversaw it.  
  
Not a _T_ in sight.  
  
They’re done with school. It’s a big step, Percy knows, one he’s thrilled to have taken, and handing in his Auror application, Fontaine at his side, might be the best he’s ever felt in his life, when it comes to his ambitions.  
  
Credence finds work at the largest and most reputable brewery in Manhattan less than a month out of school.  
  
Percy was supposed to move in with Sera, of course, but when he’d broached the subject while still in school, she had merely rolled her eyes at him and said she had another roommate in mind already.  
  
He’s been living with Credence for a while now but it is vastly different, their own little apartment, just one bed, somewhere to call home. They enjoy a few weeks of peace there before Credence is off to work and Percy and Fontaine have been accepted into the Auror training program.  
  
Percy thought Ilvermorny was rigorous, but it’s nothing compared to the training program. They must master wand work, they must master work of the mind, and they must master utter control of themselves. Mistakes can’t be made as an Auror and only the best of the best pass the program. If the training doesn’t weed most of them out, the character aptitude tests will.  
  
Some drop in the first week, many in the second, and almost a third of those who were accepted are gone by their second month.  
  
It’s as Percy expected and when he’s not gone for days at a time, doing field training, he only has the energy to come home, drink a glass of whiskey and sleep.  
  
He and Credence find time to talk about their weeks here and there but it’s harder to maintain their relationship now. Credence spends his mornings and evenings alone, except for the occasional night of freedom Percy gets. He can see Credence suffering for it by the end of his third month and he won’t ask him to hold on until the year is finished, because he expects his first years as an Auror might be similar. He’ll likely work the night shift first, for a couple years, and it might give them more time together, but not much.  
  
Percy thinks if he asked Credence to hold on, Credence would feel obligated to stay with him, and he doesn’t ever want Credence to feel that way. The idea of losing him is a terrifying one, something that makes him wake up in a cold sweat sometimes and have difficulties falling asleep after.  
  
He loves Credence, more than he thought he was capable of loving someone, and he wants to stay with him forever, preferably, but if it doesn’t happen that way, he won’t be shocked. Heartbroken, of course, but not shocked.  
  
But Credence keeps choosing him. He keeps choosing Percy all the way through the training program, until Percy graduates alongside Fontaine, with great honors and a few glass awards to add to the shelf.  
  
Credence is proud of him, tells him so numerous times, but the light in his eyes does go out a little, when he’s assigned night shift. Percy had told Credence it would happen but he must have hoped he would get lucky.  
  
But Percy has a week off after graduation before he’ll start work, time for MACUSA to get paperwork filed and for his badge to be made and equipment assigned to him. Credence takes it off as well and it’s what they need.  
  
Time to reconnect and talk about things other than work. Time to hold each other and for Percy to stay awake longer than two minutes while they do. Credence needs this, especially, Percy knows, needs the reassurance that he’s loved and wanted, and Percy understands it and is happy to give him it.  
  
They’re nineteen and it’s a little surprising to think about. Percy tells Credence so and he chuckles.  
  
“Weren’t we just sixteen?” he asks as he traces the lines of Percy’s abdomen.  
  
They’re lying in bed and it’s mid-morning, but neither of them are exactly eager to get out of bed and start the day. Even if starting the day probably just means breakfast on the sofa and staying there for the rest of it.  
  
“Feels like it,” Percy says as he gently runs his fingers through Credence’s hair. “It might be a year or so before it can happen, but I think we should take a vacation. Get out of Manhattan for a week and see some other sights. Maybe go sit on a beach somewhere.”  
  
Credence smiles, Percy can feel it against his arm, and hums his approval. “That sounds nice,” he says. “The beaches here are too cold. We could go to California.”  
  
“We could go to Mexico,” Percy says with a laugh. “The Bahamas. Anywhere.”  
  
“Hey, I’ve always wanted to see California,” Credence says and looks at Percy with a grin. “But maybe the Bahamas wouldn’t be so bad. I think seeing you with a tan might do things to me.”  
  
Percy laughs. “Oh?” he asks. “That might make you do inappropriate things to me?”  
  
“Mhmm,” Credence hums and smiles, leaning in to kiss Percy.  
  
“Too bad you can’t tan. You end up looking like a matchstick.”  
  
Credence rolls his eyes. “At least I don’t peel anymore, like I did when I was a kid. Do you know how painful baths were with a bad sunburn?”  
  
“No,” Percy says with a chuckle. “But at least you don’t have to suffer them anymore.” He kisses Credence’s forehead. “So you and me, the Bahamas. Hammocks under palm trees and seafood and lots of rum. Clear blue water. I’ll put a bit away for it each payday.”  
  
“Me too,” Credence says and smiles. “We’ll make it happen.”  
  
It’s something to work toward, something good and fun, the way they haven’t been able to plan for the last year or so. It’ll be another tough year but with a regular work schedule it’ll be more manageable.  
  
When Percy officially starts work at MACUSA, they have a few hours in the evening to spend together and it does wonders for them both, though the lack of sleeping side by side is not something either of them cope well with.  
  
Being an Auror is everything Percy and Fontaine ever dreamed of, despite being the newest in the department and getting to see horrific things very early on. But Percy finds the work as fascinating and intriguing as he always knew it would be. Puzzles to solve, pieces to fit together, until bigger pictures form. They work small time crimes for the time being but if the people they investigate decide to add violence to their repertoire, it means their cases get bigger. And finding a connection to dark wizards who practice Dark Arts in their work is always something of an achievement.  
  
Percy’s barely there a month before Director Wolfs shakes his hand and tells him if he keeps going like he is, in ten years the seat will be his, and Percy can only smile because he always knew that. He has plans already for how he wants the department to look when he runs it, who he wants under him when he does, and ten years seems like a long time, but he knows it really isn’t.  
  
But then life hits, not even two full months into work.  
  
And it hits hard.  
  
He gets the message when he’s at his desk that Eliza is at St Lyptus’ and there is no information, no clues as to why she is, and Percy has a brief moment of white hot terror that their father has done something to her.  
  
Percy barely gets it out to Director Wolfs, but the Director sends him off with a brisk nod and a word of hope, and Percy leaves MACUSA on wooden legs and Disapparates to St Lyptus’ the moment he can.  
  
He doesn’t know which floor she’s on but the front desk tells him the fifth, which is permanent residency and curse damage, Percy knows, which doesn’t bode well at all. Which makes his thoughts spin wildly out of control and he’s not sure how he manages to get to her room, but he does.  
  
When he steps inside, two Healers are there, and Eliza lies in a soft hospital bed. She looks like she’s asleep, color to her skin, alive, and Percy slumps against the wall in relief, because she’s not dead. She’s not maimed or otherwise physically harmed that he can see.  
  
It’s a short-lived relief.  
  
One of the Healers he recognizes, the head Healer of this floor, and he explains to Percy that Eliza’s shop had been robbed, in the middle of the day in broad daylight. There are numerous things in her shop to steal, Percy knows, she works with wildly expensive materials and her customers are wealthy, so it isn’t a surprise.  
  
But they don’t recognize the curse someone hit her with. They say it’s unfamiliar magic to them and they have forty years of experience between the two Healers in the room. They’re calling more experts in curse damage in, they tell him, to find out how to reverse the damage. When he asks what the damage is, exactly, he’s not sure if he’s comforted or more worried by it.  
  
Eliza is perfectly healthy. She’s in some sort of suspended sleep and her mind lives, her body lives, but there is no way to revive her that they’ve found yet. They tell him he can be proactive in helping his sister because his department will be investigating this and if they find the people who did it and get the spell out of them, they might be able to reverse the damage, if they haven’t done so already.  
  
Percy’s never heard of this type of magic either and when he asks if it will advance beyond a suspended sleep, they can only tell him they’re not sure, but to expect anything.  
  
They’ve already thought of it and had been reluctant to mention it, he can tell, but he works against the Dark Arts for a living. He knows some curses work slowly and inflict major damage by the end, damage that cannot be reversed. Damage that can leave someone with disabilities and a sound mind or a healthy body but an unsound mind.  
  
Most times curse damage that works slowly ends in death.  
  
They leave the room and he sits by his sister’s bedside and looks at her beautiful face, calm in a cursed sleep, breathing evenly on her own. She looks so peaceful and it’s cruel, he thinks, utter cruelty, because he expects her to wake and tell him she’s alright.  
  
Once he’s had time to pull himself together, he gets a message sent off to Credence.  
  
He’s there not a half hour later and when he takes Percy into his arms, Percy cries helplessly, feeling inadequate all over again in his life. Credence runs his fingers through his hair and only whispers _I’m sorry_ and _they’ll figure it out if you don’t first,_ but it doesn’t help.  
  
Credence tells him he can’t take on the blame when his tears dry and Percy knows that, but he feels guilty all the same and doesn’t know why.  
  
Percy feels even more guilty about asking for time off so soon after starting work, but Director Wolfs only tells him to take the time he needs, and he spends the next two days in Eliza’s hospital room.  
  
Credence does too and Percy isn’t sure why, but he wishes he wouldn’t. He wants to be alone with his thoughts and Credence doesn’t speak much, but Percy finds it irritating when he does, when he moves too much on the sofa in the room, when he thanks the Healers who come by to talk to them.  
  
Eliza is Percy’s family, not Credence’s, but that thought doesn’t sit well with him. She will be Credence’s family one day. Percy’s had that in mind for a long time now and yet he’s irritated all the same.  
  
He tells Credence he doesn’t have to be there all the time and Credence tells him he wants to be and it nearly makes Percy shout at him.  
  
But after a week with no improvements at all, no news from the Healers or from his department, Percy knows he can’t spend another moment in Eliza’s room staring at her face and doing nothing about what’s happened.  
  
“I’m going back to work tomorrow,” he tells Credence as they sit on the sofa after having eaten some soup from a place they like, that Credence had brought in.  
  
“You are?” Credence asks in surprise. “Did Director Wolfs tell you to come in?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Oh,” Credence says softly. “Percy, you know you can—”  
  
“I’m going back to work, Credence,” Percy says firmly. “I’m useless here. If I can help with this… or any of the cases that come my way, I want to be there. I can’t sit in here anymore and do nothing. You need to go back to work too.”  
  
Credence doesn’t say anything for a while. “Alright,” he eventually says. “If that’s what you need, Percy. I’ll come see her after work if you want to meet here.”  
  
“You don’t have to,” Percy says tightly.  
  
“...would you rather I didn’t?”  
  
Percy is saved from answering that when the door opens, but he thinks he would have rather endured a years’ worth of painful conversation with Credence than a single moment with the man who steps in.  
  
He’s tall and grey and mean looking, holding onto a black cane that he likely doesn’t need, but thinks makes him more intimidating to all of his wealthy friends. He’s dressed finely in black, like he’s come to a funeral, and Percy twitches a little, because he has the desire to leap up and give him a right hook across his sharp jaw.  
  
“Percival,” Silas Graves says with a short, malicious smile, that says he knows what Percy’s thinking. He looks at Eliza for only a moment, appraising her before huffing, turning back to Percy. “I suppose she was taken by surprise?”  
  
“Yeah, I fucking think so,” Percy snaps. “Even if she wasn’t, there were five of them who came in according to witness statements.”  
  
Silas merely shrugs and looks at Credence, from his shoes to the top of his head. “And you are, young man?”  
  
Credence looks pale but there’s anger in his eyes too. “Credence Barebone, sir.”  
  
“Barebone,” Silas says. “No-maj-born?”  
  
Credence doesn’t answer and Silas smirks a little in triumph.  
  
“Yes, he always did like mutts,” he says. “Why aren’t you at work, boy, figuring out who did this to your sister?” he demands of Percy.  
  
Percy rests his hand on Credence’s thigh because he’s tensed up and Silas sneers but doesn’t make a comment on it. He’s probably known about Credence for a while, with all the vultures that circle around MACUSA.  
  
“I’m back at work tomorrow to figure it out,” Percy says with forced calm. “I’ll let you know when she’s awake. She won’t want you here.”  
  
“She can tell me that herself if she ever wakes,” Silas says. “She is my daughter after all, my blood, and I’ve every right to her.”  
  
Percy grits hit teeth and if it wouldn’t get him fined or possibly arrested, he’d curse Silas Graves for thinking of Eliza as property still. Both of them, he knows, and his hands are trembling with the effort to not grab his wand. Credence’s hand rests over his own and as irritated as he was only a moment ago, it’s a comfort.  
  
“You’ll never be alone with her,” Percy warns.  
  
“Oh, I’m certain you will make sure of that, Percival,” Silas says with amusement. “It’ll be the curse that kills her if anything does. I don’t suppose either of you shall be carrying on the family name.”  
  
“When Eliza and I die, so will your precious family name.”  
  
Silas peers at Percy for a while, something dangerous in his gaze. He looks at Credence. “It wouldn’t be such a shame if you’d bothered to respect bloodlines. What do you do, boy? Nothing remarkable by the looks of you.”  
  
Percy stands from the sofa and so does Credence, but that’s to grab his arm and hold him firmly in place.  
  
“Not worth it,” Credence says and he sounds perfectly calm. “I have had much worse things said to me, sir, but keep trying and you might make me laugh.”  
  
Silas barks a laugh himself. “At least you’ve got some backbone in you. Better than these two ever did,” he says with a mere gesture at Eliza, as if she’s something worthless. “I’ll be by to visit her regularly. Perhaps you’ll find the answer and wake her up, with all of your talents and accolades,” he says to Percy with a mocking smile.  
  
He taps his cane on the floor and leaves the room as quickly as he had come in.  
  
Percy stares after him, torn between rage and exhaustion, and he looks at his sister and vows then that he will find the answer and give her back her life, just so they can both spit on Silas’ grave someday.  
  
“Well,” Credence says dryly, “he and my mother would get along well.”  
  
Percy can only sigh and slump back against the sofa. When Credence tentatively puts his arm around him, Percy leans into him, and doesn’t know where the irritation earlier came from. He’s ashamed of it now and holds tightly onto Credence and remembers that he’s as much Percy’s family as Eliza is.  
  
——  
  
Director Wolfs doesn’t want to let Percy in on the investigation into what happened to his sister. Percy understands but it also pisses him off so much that he loudly makes his displeasure known.  
  
Wolfs only stares at him calmly until Percy starts to feel like an idiot for disrespecting his Director, but Wolfs tells him then if he wants in, he’s in, but it’s up to him to keep his head in check.  
  
And if he doesn’t, he knows what will happen.  
  
Percy gets caught up with what everyone knows about the robbery. Five men had come in and the other three employees in the store had been incapcitated but not had curses placed on them otherwise. They know who four of the five men are and are in the process of finding out where they are via informants and a few of their own undercover on the streets.  
  
The four they know of are street criminals, not Dark Arts practitioners, and they are all in agreement that the fifth man will be the one to have placed the curse on Eliza, for reasons unknown, but Percy tells them she probably had some choice words for him or had attempted to defend herself. It’s in their blood, though her talents lie in charms while his are in defense and he’s proud of her while also wanting to shout at her when she wakes up.  
  
He’s able to switch to day shift and stays late at work, much later than he needs to, and leaves in the morning before Credence has even woken up.  
  
Percy tries to ignore it, tries to ignore the reason why, but it’s a constant itch under his skin.  
  
The irritation is back. He comes home at night and not twenty minutes into spending time with Credence he feels like he needs a drink. It starts his nightly drinking habit and when Credence tells him he wishes he wouldn’t, he’s nasty in response.  
  
It shocks Credence as much as it shocks Percy and it doesn’t take very long for shame to kick in and for an apology to follow. Credence accepts it easily and Percy knows it’s because he thinks Percy is, well, _stressed_ due to life and its unexpected twists.  
  
He is stressed, immensely, but he’s also angry. He’s angry that this has happened to his sister, that it’s happened so quickly into starting his job, he’s angry that he gets a message from the Healers every three days that Silas Graves has visited Eliza yet again.  
  
Percy had told them that day that he was to never be alone with her and they might have brushed him off as an estranged, embittered son if he wasn’t an Auror. They take him seriously, much to his relief, and Silas is not allowed to be alone with Eliza.  
  
But he still gets angrier every single day.  
  
There are no improvements to her condition but it also doesn’t worsen. One day it might but it’s a small bit of hope for now.  
  
Credence pulls out the book Fontaine had given him, filled with recipes of rare potions, and he points a few out to Percy, merely spitballing ideas of how a potion might wake Eliza up, and Percy tells him it won’t be a damn potion that saves her life. Credence looks mildly hurt but when he asks how Percy can know that, Percy doesn’t answer.  
  
He tips back another whiskey and goes to bed.  
  
It takes three months to finally arrest two of the men from that night. They’d been well hidden once they’d realized they’d done damage to an Auror’s sister who belongs to a very old Pureblood family. Percy isn’t allowed to sit it on their interrogations but once his Director is done with them, they have locations on the other two.  
  
It only takes a couple of weeks to bring them in as well and to get the name of the fifth man.  
  
Percy has to start using spells in the morning before work to get the alcohol out of his breath, drops to clear his eyes, and any time Credence tells him he needs to cut back or he’s going to get himself killed, he ignores him.  
  
They’d had freedom and now Eliza is stuck in another prison and he doesn’t know how to get her out of this one. He feels close to screaming every moment of every day.  
  
The Healers bring in many different people but they never have good news for him when he visits the hospital. Eliza always looks the same, peaceful and healthy, her hair shining blue in the moonlight from her open window.  
  
Finding the fifth man, Brier Coal, proves difficult, but it’s not surprising. He’s in different circles than the street criminals, who have all said _we didn’t know what he was gonna do,_ like it might soften the Court to them.  
  
They’re put away for attempted murder and their lack of knowledge about where to find Coal doesn’t afford them lighter sentences.  
  
Five months into the investigation, five months into Eliza’s long sleep, Percy feels like a changed man.  
  
Sera tells him he is, when he mentions it to her, and that he better fix it or it’s going to become a permanent change.  
  
He goes out with Fontaine every Friday night and they drink until they can’t see straight, which always means they have to get Apparated home by someone else. Credence doesn’t like it when he stumbles home like that, Percy knows, and in the mornings he’ll tell him he’s spiraling out of control and Credence doesn’t know how to help anymore.  
  
It’s one of those mornings, when Percy is putting drops into his eyes that instantly clear the redness from them and is getting the alcohol out of his breath in their tiny little bathroom, trying to drown out Credence’s pleas to talk to him.  
  
“I don’t have time,” Percy mutters. “Work soon.”  
  
“Percy,” Credence sighs as he leans in the bathroom door. “We have to fix this.”  
  
“When you can tell me how to fix Eliza, please do.”  
  
“Percy.”  
  
“Credence.”  
  
“For Merlin’s sake,” Credence says angrily. “Percy, you have to see what you’re doing to yourself. When Eliza wakes up, do you think she’ll be happy with how you’ve handled this? You’re too young to ruin your life or worse, end up fucking dead. I don’t want to lose you and I feel like I’m going to one day.”  
  
Percy sighs as he wets his hair and brushes it back as neatly as it’ll go without a shower. “I’m not dying anytime soon, Credence,” he says. “I’m fine.”  
  
“Fine my fucking ass!” Credence snaps. “Stop brushing this off like it’s nothing. We’re all worried sick about you and—”  
  
“Listen,” Percy interrupts and turns to face Credence. “My sister might fucking _die_ if I don’t figure out where this man is. We still know fuck all about this curse and what it might do to her at any second of any day. I don’t have time to care about _drinking too much_ or _not spending enough time with you._ I definitely don’t have the time to reassure you every five fucking minutes that I still love you.”  
  
Credence stares at him and the look of hurt is profound but he blinks once and it’s gone. “Stop taking it out on me,” he says, his voice wavering with tears, something Percy has heard one too many times lately. “I didn’t do this and neither did you. Stop taking it out on yourself and stop taking it out on _me,_ Percy.”  
  
Percy opens his mouth, a sharp remark ready for that, he’s sure, but he comes up short. He looks at Credence, at the brightness in his eyes, and feels some clarity for the first time in five months.  
  
Credence is right. He’s been taking his anger and helplessness out on Credence, especially these last few months, and Credence doesn’t deserve that.  
  
Never did, never has, never will.  
  
Credence, who has always been there for him, with kindness and love and support, with an easy smile and a cheeky grin. Credence, who has only ever loved him and asked for nothing in return. There’s an expectation to be treated well that never needed to be said and Percy realizes now he has failed at this.  
  
“You’re right,” Percy says as he watches Credence. “I have been taking it out on you. I’m sorry.” Credence looks relieved and Percy frowns. “I can’t be with you anymore.”  
  
The relief vanishes and Credence blinks at him. He looks shocked, like it was the last thing he was expecting to hear, and Percy wonders if it really was. He thinks Credence should have expected it, but the way he’s staring at Percy makes him doubt it.  
  
Either way, Percy knows that this is the truth. That this is what’s in his heart and what he needs to do.  
  
“You don’t mean that,” Credence whispers and he’s blinking quickly, to keep tears at bay.  
  
“I do,” Percy says. “I’ll keep taking it out on you because I don’t have the time to figure out how to not to. I barely have the time to spend with you to begin with. You deserve better, Credence. You deserve for someone to treat you well and I’m failing at that.”  
  
“Can’t we talk about this? We can make it better, Percy,” Credence says and there is some panic in his voice now. “This is a nightmare, but it doesn’t mean it’s going to go on forever. We can make this right. I know why you’ve been the way you have been, I only ask you to not—”  
  
“I can make promise after promise to not take it out on you anymore,” Percy says. “And if I do, I’ll hate myself even more than I already do.” He laughs bitterly. “I can’t handle that anymore either. I need to focus on my family, on my sister, and hunting this man down so I can save her life. I have no time to make this right, to give you what you deserve. I need to be alone. I need to focus. I _can’t_ be with you anymore. For both our sakes’.”  
  
There are tears on Credence’s cheeks now and Percy itches to wipe them away, but he won’t. He’ll take back what he’s said if he pulls Credence to him like he wants to and things will only get worse. Credence deserves the world and Percy thought he could give him it, but he can’t anymore.  
  
He knows he loves Credence, that hasn’t changed. He loves him more each year that passes, but he’s become bitter and resentful, and Credence doesn’t deserve that.  
  
Percy is becoming his father and no one in the world deserves that.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Percy says. “I’m truly sorry, Credence. I’ll be by after work to get my things.”  
  
Credence gazes at Percy and his heartache is palpable, plainly written on his face, a slump to his shoulders and bend to his spine that hasn’t been there in a very long time. He turns away and walks across the room and sits on the bed. He puts his head in his hands.  
  
Percy wants to touch him, tell him it’ll be alright, that he’s sorry and he’s not going anywhere, and it would only hurt them all the more, in the end.  
  
If the day comes that he is told Eliza will never wake again, he will be permanently changed and not for the better.  
  
Percy leaves for work instead and the day is strange. Like he’s watching it through someone else’s eyes, not his own, everything dreamlike and not quite real. No one asks him if he’s alright, they stopped doing that a while ago, and Fontaine doesn’t look at him oddly.  
  
He makes it through. There’s no news yet and Percy can only hope it comes one day. Before they end up finding Coal dead, a casualty of his chosen environment, and who knows if Eliza could ever be saved after that?  
  
When Percy gets to the apartment near nine that evening, Credence isn’t home. It only surprises him for a moment before he realizes it’s better this way for both of them. There’s a note on the kitchen table that only tells him if it’s something they shared, he can take it if he would like to.  
  
Percy makes quick work of his belongings and he really only has his school trunk at the moment, but it’s got more than enough room for everything once he’s shrunken things down. He leaves some of his things, books he knows Credence liked better than he did, his pillow on the bed because Credence always commandeers it in the morning when he gets up. He leaves the blankets they’ve bought together because Credence has far more attachment to them than he does.  
  
The only thing he takes that is not solely his own is one of the many picture frames they have on a bookshelf in the bedroom that takes up a quarter of the space. It’s his favorite of them, taken by Eliza when they’d visited her at work one evening. She photographs what she makes to print in magazines and she’d convinced them to take one.  
  
Her easygoing nature and disarming humor had turned it into four separate pictures of goofing off, having a good time and laughing, and kissing. They’re both grinning and as Percy stares at the four pictures made into a collage and sees Credence waving up at him, he feels the beginnings of heartbreak that he’s kept at bay so far.  
  
Percy leaves then, once the picture frame is tucked neatly away, and uses the fireplace once it’s expanded to size. He floos into Eliza’s apartment and knows he’ll have to unregister Credence’s access to it tomorrow.  
  
This is the last place he wants to be but he won’t go to Sera’s or Fontaine’s, not yet. He needs to process this for himself first before he tells his friends. Wolfs won’t mind if he takes half a day off tomorrow or the day after to go find an apartment somewhere and visit Eliza after to tell her the news.  
  
Percy makes a cup of tea, her favorite, and tells himself she will be back here someday.  
  
“You have to be,” he whispers to the quiet kitchen.  
  
He won’t sleep that night, but that’s because he forgot to grab his whiskey, and he doesn’t feel like going out to buy a bottle. He feels withdrawal symptoms a few hours later and he works through them, as agonizing as they can be, because he thinks he deserves some sort of punishment for this.  
  
Percy used to feel incredible rage at the people who didn’t give Credence the kindness and love he deserved. He still does, but that rage has turned inward, because he knows he became one of those people over the last few months. He may not have raised a hand and most of the cutting remarks he kept to himself, but he’d pulled away, he’d snapped at Credence, he’d been cruel all the same.  
  
He knows if he went home at this moment Credence would forgive him and that, more than anything, tells him he’s made the right decision.  
  
——  
  
Percy finds a shit apartment in the East Village, not even all that far from the one he shared with Credence, but he doesn’t plan on letting Credence find that out. He disconnects the fireplace in Credence’s apartment from Eliza’s before changing his address.  
  
He dives into work after that, spending more time in the office than anyone, unless Wolfs kicks him out because he’s falling asleep at his desk at eleven at night. A double of whiskey gets him through most of his nights at home.  
  
His uncle was a fucking liar, though, because it doesn’t keep the nightmares away. They come back, stronger than they have since he was a teenager, and take their toll on him. He buys sleeping draughts and once he’s had a large tumbler of Pure Malt, he drinks half of one and that gets him to the morning.  
  
It takes another two months to bring Coal in, but he’s alive and well, and Percy spends the time he’s being interrogated in the bathroom weeping. He’s almost always on the verge of tears, which makes him angry and going down to the training rooms with Fontaine helps him retain some semblance of control.  
  
Wolfs gets what he needs from Coal’s mind and once Percy has cleaned himself up, they go to St Lyptus’ together. Percy listens as Wolfs tells the Healers who have been working to find a cure for Eliza how the spell was made, what the theory is for how it works, with a warning that it might not be the last they see of it.  
  
That Percy sees of it.  
  
But the Healers promise they will have the best working with the information to find a cure and they look more hopeful than they have in almost eight months. It doesn’t give Percy any hope, trained to have no hope and low expectations, but his heart feels slightly less heavy when he goes home that night and pours himself a glass of whiskey.  
  
Of course, nothing is ever easy, and it takes another three solid months before he finally gets a message from St Lyptus’ that they have news for him. Percy is at work and he’s barely stepped one foot into Director Wolfs’ office before he’s told to go.  
  
Percy gets there, not knowing what _news_ is, not knowing if it’s the best or the worst, and barely refrains from running down the halls. He gets to Eliza’s room on the fifth floor and slides into the doorway, looking at three Healers.  
  
Eliza is still in bed, still sleeping, and he looks at them, his heart hammering against his ribcage.  
  
The head Healer of the floor beckons him closer and that’s when he sees four vials of a dark blue potion on the bedside table. He frowns as he looks at them, then at Healer Doves.  
  
“After Director Wolfs explained the workings of the curse, I assigned the best of the best to break down how it was created and thus how it might be repaired once it’s been cast,” Doves says as he gestures at two women, who smile at Percy. “Because it’s based so heavily on theory, they determined creating a spell would not only be a long and arduous process but possibly dangerous as well. A potion was the easiest answer. They’ve ensured it will not damage her further. It took a month and a half and an expert’s help to brew but…” He points at the vials. “One a day for four days and we’ll see how she takes to it. I promise you, son, there will be no worsening of her condition. Plenty of the potion has been made in the meantime, if more is required.”  
  
Percy stares at him, blinking hard a few times, before he looks at Eliza. He thinks of Credence and his idea that a potion might help, but he pushes that quickly away and nods briskly.  
  
“Do we start today?”  
  
“With your permission, we can start now,” one of the other Healers says with a kind smile.  
  
Percy is terrified. Terrified that something will still go wrong. They don’t understand the spell, it’s only a theory, so how can they really know the potion won’t harm her? And yet they are the very best when it comes to potions that heal and cure and he is willing to trust them. It’s been nearly a year and if he can possibly see his sister’s smile soon, he’d go to the ends of the world to make it happen.  
  
“Of course,” Percy says. “Please do. How did you determine four vials?”  
  
“They’re powerful potions,” one of the Healers says. “Very powerful. We don’t want to give her any unpleasant side effects. The human brain is a delicate thing and the curse damage is concentrated there. It’s a matter of taking things slow, really. But as this is a newly created potion for a newly created curse, we don’t know exactly how much will be needed. Calculations determined this amount but for all we know, she might respond to the first vial or the tenth.”  
  
Percy nods and tries not to feel sick. But he watches anyway as Eliza is carefully given one of the potions. They all seem to wait with baited breath and perhaps it’s foolish, because after five minutes nothing happens and they remember that this is going to take time and not likely to be a sudden miracle.  
  
Either way, Percy sends a message to Wolfs that he will be taking the next four days at the very least off, and Wolfs happily gives him it with warm well wishes. Percy is lucky to have a Director like him and can only hope to be as good of a man as he is when he takes the seat.  
  
He sleeps on the sofa, barely, suffering withdrawals, though they’re milder than they could be, if he was given another year of this. He only leaves to shower and get a bite to eat once a day, but he is otherwise in Eliza’s room. He tries to read and can’t but if he stares at her for too long, he convinces himself her chest is rising too slowly, so he forces his eyes to move across the pages of books.  
  
Percy doesn’t take in anything they say, his thoughts whirring in a thousand different directions, and he desperately tries not to think of Credence but he can’t help it.  
  
They haven’t seen nor spoken to one another since that morning. Like they’d never met, like they’d never spent years together, and sometimes it hurts so acutely that it takes his breath away and leaves him gasping.  
  
Seven months have flown by for him but he wonders what they’ve been like for Credence. If he’s been alright. He’d become such a happy person, carefree, until Percy had started to ruin that and he’s glad he left when he did, but he hopes every damn day that he hadn’t ruined Credence’s progress.  
  
He thinks that’s not giving Credence enough credit though. Credence is strong, always has been, even if it took him a while to actually tap into that strength.  
  
Percy knows he’ll be okay. Whether Percy will be okay is still up for debate, but as long as Credence is out there and content, even if it’s not quite yet, it’s enough for him.  
  
On the fifth day, after the four vials of potions have been given, the Healers discuss if a break between doses might be the way to go about it. Four on and four off, perhaps, and though Percy understands potions well, had excelled in making them, he is not well-versed in designing entirely new ones. This is not his type of work so he lets them be the judges of it and stays out of it.  
  
Once they’ve gone, he goes home to shower and grabs a sandwich before heading back. The day moves slowly, like the previous four have, and he takes the chair at Eliza’s bedside. He’ll move to the sofa when it gets late, but for now he reads by the soft light of a lamp at her side, and wishes he had a bottle of whiskey.  
  
He flips a page and rubs at his eyes for a while as the clock steadily ticks toward nine.  
  
“Hey, you.”  
  
For a brief, paralyzing moment of fear, Percy thinks he’s imagined the voice. He looks up, ice in his veins, expecting to see a ghost at Eliza’s bedside, but he doesn’t.  
  
She’s looking at him, her eyes barely cracked open and she’s wearing a small smile.  
  
The book falls to the floor and Percy staggers out of the chair, leaning over her and with a trembling hand, he touches her own, warmer than it’s been in nearly a year. He’s scared to do more than touch and she’s weak but that doesn’t stop her from gently gripping his fingers.  
  
 _“Eliza,”_ he says and his voice is broken and there are tears in his eyes, but she only smiles.  
  
“I must have… given you a fight,” she whispers slowly. “You look terrible.”  
  
Percy laughs, unable to help it, but he begins to weep in earnest after that and leans down when she lifts her arms, only a few inches off the bed. She grasps him and he’s still too scared to touch her, not too much, but it’s the most relieved he’s ever felt in all his life.  
  
“Don’t go back to sleep,” he says when he’s pulled himself together enough to look at her, holding her hand loosely. “Stay here with me. I need to tell the Healers you’re awake.”  
  
Eliza smiles as she gazes at him. “How long?”  
  
Percy stares at her and wipes his cheeks off, shaking his head. He doesn’t think he can say it, can shock her like that, and he wants to tell her that the Healers can explain everything, because he simply isn’t capable of it right now.  
  
“Percy,” Eliza says softly. “How long?”  
  
“In two weeks it’ll be a year,” Percy croaks, because he can’t deny her the answer, and more tears come then.  
  
But Eliza only smiles. “Better than ten, huh?” she whispers. “I think... it’s going to be my turn after this.”  
  
Percy frowns. “What?” he asks in confusion.  
  
“To heal you.”  
  
And if he weeps more after that, well, it’s her fault, but she only pats his hand gently and tells him to get the Healers. Percy does, with urgency, and they arrive swiftly, the three he knows, and others are outside of the door, some covering their mouths and some with tears in their own eyes.  
  
Percy stays out of their way as they inspect Eliza, as they ask her question after question. He knows they’re determining if there was brain damage they weren’t aware of, but Eliza answers them patiently and with a soft joke now and then. She explains what happened in her store, though she doesn’t remember much, and she remembers nothing from the last year.  
  
They repeatedly scan her body to ensure its health and find nothing wrong with her, so Doves approves of a potion to begin to rebuild her strength. She hasn’t lost any muscle mass, but she has still been bed bound for a year. Doves orders it to be done very slowly so they don’t send her into shock and Percy shakes his hand gratefully when he finally leaves, nearly three hours later.  
  
A Healer comes by then, every fifteen minutes, but it doesn’t irritate Percy. He can’t take his eyes off his sister. She wants to sleep, he can tell, still tired, and he is rather terrified if she does she’ll never wake again, but he can’t keep her awake forever.  
  
“Sleep, Eliza. Get some real rest,” Percy says after a while.  
  
She smiles tiredly and nods. “I’ll be awake in the morning, you’ll see,” she says. “Will Credence come in the morning?”  
  
Percy stares at her for a while, gripping the side of her hospital bed, and looks down when she frowns, because there are tears in his eyes.  
  
When he hangs his head, she runs her fingers through his hair and asks no more that night.  
  
——  
  
Eliza doesn’t fall into a cursed sleep again.  
  
She begins to find her strength, slowly but surely, with the aid of potions and eventually the meals she eats. The Healers want it done at the slowest pace possible but Percy is impatient. He wants to see Eliza out of bed, out of the hospital and in her home, but Eliza doesn’t seem to have the same impatience.  
  
“I’d like to make sure it’s not going to happen again, Percy,” she tells him five days after she’d woken up, with some amusement. “Once they’ve studied my blood, I’ll be able to go home.”  
  
Percy sighs, because he knows that, but it’s taking too long.  
  
Silas had come by, just once, and Percy had nearly cursed him where he stood simply because he was there. But Eliza had only smiled pleasantly and told him to find his way back out and to never come back. Silas had smirked, which meant he’d try to find his way back in their lives someday, but they’re done with him.  
  
He’s going to die, old and alone, with no one to care and they are both eager to see it happen.  
  
They’ll find out in time that it was the last time they would ever see their father and they got their wish.  
  
Eliza tells Percy to go back to work after a week. He’s restless not being there, restless sitting in her room, even though she is allowed to move around now. He’s still suffering withdrawals but they’re calming down now.  
  
Percy hasn’t told her about taking up whiskey the way he had because he’d already suffered her disappointment with what he’d done to Credence. She told him she understood why he had left him, that she knew that fear, the fear of becoming their parents, and she told him she was sorry that it happened but Percy knew she was disappointed in him.  
  
Not that he’d become bitter and resentful and had taken it out on Credence, no, but disappointed in him that he didn’t fix it. She wants to believe he’s strong, that he is capable of fixing anything, but it’s simply not true.  
  
She tells him now and then to talk to Credence, to tell him things have gotten better now, but it’s been nearly eight months and he doesn’t want to open that door.  
  
Percy doesn’t want to see what might be behind it.  
  
Eliza is the one to write Credence a letter and Percy’s never felt like such a coward in his life. He goes back to work after that and gets as busy as he can possibly be, while choosing to stay away from whiskey. Sleeping draughts keep the nightmares away and he’s figured out how much he needs to get him up in the morning in time for work.  
  
Fontaine isn’t necessarily upset to lose his drinking partner - admits he probably enabled Percy too much - so they trade Friday nights out drinking for forming a Duelling Club. MACUSA grants the permits needed for it once they’ve secured a place they can hold it at, and after inspections have been completed they open it.  
  
It becomes immensely popular within weeks and Percy is as good at rooting out people who take it too seriously and are apt to harm someone someday as he was in school. It keeps him occupied, keeps him busy, keeps him working outside of his long days of dealing with cases. Keeps him from thinking about Credence Barebone.  
  
Eliza is home by autumn, considered completely healthy and unchanged by the curse, though she will go back to St Lyptus’ monthly to ensure that, out of an abundance of caution, but Healer Doves admits to Percy it’s probably not even necessary.  
  
Percy himself puts protections on her shop, alarms and ways for the employees to protect themselves if someone foolish ever tried to break in. They won’t be able to manage it, not unless they’re extremely powerful, and extremely powerful wizards aren’t looking to break into a boutique shop and steal materials. She’s not even frightened to go back, not that he can sense, and he’s proud of her.  
  
She’s far stronger than he will ever be.  
  
Time moves by quickly after that. Percy’s caseloads increase simply because he works through them so efficiently and it’s not long before he leads junior Aurors, with his Captain’s supervision. He’ll be twenty-one soon and his Captain and Chief and Director are impressed with him. They nod briskly at him when he’s done well, not handing out endless praise, because he doesn’t need or want it.  
  
He wants to be the best Auror he can be, to only do his job well, to continue working toward his ultimate goal.  
  
Eliza teases him for being too damn ambitious but it’s built in him and by the next summer, when he is twenty-two years old, he’s promoted to senior Auror. It puts him in line to become a Captain if the position opens, which other seniors will be working for as well, but the responsibilities he’s given now he excels at.  
  
Percy has always been a leader. Even when he was a terrified boy, scared to go home every summer from school, he was trusted by his teachers to lead students and for those students to actually listen to him, because he simply had that way about him.  
  
It’s everything he’s wanted, everything he’s worked for, but coming home to an empty apartment alone every night is not something he enjoys. Percy had thought that would likely be his future until Credence Barebone walked into his life and had altered it, in the best of ways.  
  
He might stare at the pictures far too often and it’s probably not doing his mind any good. Sometimes the overwhelming desire to contact Credence, to write him or go to his apartment, anything, has him on his feet before he’s properly thought about it. It’s been far too long now, two years, and if Credence doesn’t hate him, he still won’t want to see Percy.  
  
The image of him, the last image of him, sitting on the edge of their bed with his head in his hands, defeated and abandoned, haunts Percy. Puts tears in his eyes when he least expects it.  
  
Because Percy knows he could have fucking fixed it. If he’d laid off the whiskey, he could have, because it was the whiskey that made him mean. He might have been angry still, immensely so, and he might have been withdrawn until Eliza was cured, but he wouldn’t have been cruel to Credence the way he was. Alcohol made Silas Graves, an already cruel man, far worse, and Percy has his blood.  
  
He knew that, knew it intimately, but he’d still chosen to pour a glass every night.  
  
He knew better and he’d let resentment build up because it was easier than talking to Credence about his anger and his frustrations with himself. To give them the chance to work it out, to find a balance, the way they always could.  
  
Compromise had always been easy for them, even when they were still in school. An _enviable couple,_ that’s what Creavey had said, and Percy recalls thinking anyone could be that, if they stopped being petty and immature and spoke to each other.  
  
Credence and Percy had loved each other enough that they wanted to give to each other, always, and when two people always want to _give,_ it’s easy to meet in the middle and find that balance and to stay happy. To stay in love.  
  
And ultimately it was Percy’s stupid decisions that had ruined that for both of them and one day he realizes he’ll never forgive himself for it. It makes the desire to seek out Credence stronger, to apologize, but the idea of intruding on his life again stops him. Credence might well be happy now, with someone else at his side, and the idea of disturbing that in any sort of way makes Percy feel queasy.  
  
He doesn’t tell anyone how he feels. Not Sera, not Eliza, certainly not Fontaine. Eliza and Sera are good at reading him, they always will be, but Sera stopped mentioning Credence a long time ago. Eliza still brings him up, tells Percy it wouldn’t be a bad thing if he wrote to Credence and apologized, that Credence would be willing to listen, but she can’t know that.  
  
When Percy tells her so, she only sighs in the way that says she thinks he’s an idiot, but it’s easy for her to say so. She might experience love for her friends, but she’s never been in love with someone in an intimate and romantic way, so she can’t know. She can’t know the complexities of it, of love’s complications, but he never says so.  
  
When spring comes around again, nearing his twenty-third birthday, Percy gets an invitation in the post. Creavey’s getting married and though they occasionally meet up for dinner when he comes to Manhattan, they don’t speak much. Creavey and Willows are still good friends and he’s got other friends he sees regularly, which Percy is thankful for, because it might have meant being asked to join the wedding party otherwise.  
  
Percy is about to return the invitation with a marked _attending_ before the pen falls out of his hand as he fumbles with it, because he realizes Credence will be invited as well. The idea of seeing him there causes a cold sweat to break out on his skin and his heart to beat hard enough to hurt. It’s been well over two years and he’s still terrified.  
  
It pisses him off to be afraid, but Percy sits on the invitation for a night or two before he sends it back, marked _attending._ He will simply grin and bear it if Credence is there because he’s an adult, damn it all, and he wants to support his friend. Watch him get married, the first of them to do so, though Fontaine won’t be far behind.  
  
The girl he’d been chasing for so many years lives in Manhattan, a year older than him, but she’d finally given him the time of day when they were twenty. Probably because Fontaine learned how to not be a brute about it. Her name is Eldora and her thick Staten Island accent and wicked humor tends to make Percy laugh harder than he’s ever laughed, outside of with Credence, and he likes her immensely.  
  
Fontaine is head over heels for her and Percy expects to be asked to be Best Man in the next couple of years.  
  
They’ve grown up, mostly, but Percy never expected to be as miserable as he is. As lonely. It’s his own damn fault, of course, but his twenties were supposed to be years of accomplishment and growth and they are, certainly, but there’s a hollowness to him that he never could have predicted he would feel before he’d shaken Credence’s hand that October in Ilvermorny.  
  
Percy tells Eliza about the wedding, about his fear of seeing Credence for once, and she tells him it won’t be as bad as he’s fearing and rolls her eyes when he says _yeah, it’ll be worse._  
  
But the end of April approaches quickly and on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, he Disapparates from home and arrives in Massachusetts. A state that’s familiar to him, simply because of Ilvermorny, and where Creavey and his fiancée Elle live and work.  
  
They’re getting married at Mount Washington, in a small wizarding village secluded and hidden from no-majs, set on rolling green hills. Wildflowers are in bloom and the air is as fresh as Percy remembers it being.  
  
A few large white canopies have been erected for celebration after the wedding, with a bar and band and buffet tables waiting to be filled. There are many tables under the largest canopy, decorated in white, as is the wedding arch, with delicate white roses woven into it.  
  
It’s classy in a springtime sort of way and Percy has dressed finely, but not too finely, clothes he had Anita make for him for the occasion, now that he can afford to do that sort of thing.  
  
Numerous guests are arriving and Percy greets a few people he knows from school before he catches sight of his own circle. There are two small tents, where the bride and groom have likely been preparing, and Percy walks to his old friends, in the shade of one of the tents.  
  
“The man of the hour!” Willows says.  
  
“Isn’t that supposed to be me?” Creavey asks.  
  
Percy smirks. “Willows is just tickled to see me, don’t worry,” he says and shakes Creavey’s hand. “Congratulations. Elle’s a beautiful woman.”  
  
“I might faint when I see her,” Creavey admits and he does look a little green. “Ah! Theo, I’ve never seen you so uncomfortable.”  
  
Percy looks back as Fontaine lumbers toward them, adjusting his collar, in a suit that’s probably one size too small, a mutinous scowl on his face.  
  
“I’ve never been more uncomfortable,” he says but he grins anyway and pulls Creavey into a hug while slapping his back a few times.  
  
“Ought to knock the vomit right out of him,” Willows says dryly. “Goodness, Graves, you’re hardly seventeen anymore. I’ve seen your face in the paper though. Have you become Director yet or have I missed that issue?”  
  
“I didn’t think you could possibly be anymore pompous but old age has not done you well,” Percy says. “I’ll be there soon enough.”  
  
“If Wolfs doesn’t retire by the time he’s thirty, he’ll kill him and make it look like an accident so he can take his place,” Fontaine reassures Willows.  
  
Percy rolls his eyes as they laugh and thinks not much has really changed.  
  
“You’ve brought Eldora, haven’t you?” Creavey asks Fontaine.  
  
“I have,” Fontaine says proudly. “You’ll love her. She’s a peach.”  
  
“She must be, to have found a soft spot in you,” Willows says and shrugs when Creavey elbows him. “Pardon my sourness, it’s only that I’ve lost a bet today.”  
  
Creavey elbows him again and glares at him so ferociously that Willows doesn’t bother explaining and neither Percy nor Fontaine are curious enough to ask. They talk about other things then, work and their personal lives, and Eliza inevitably comes up. It’s easier to talk about now but Percy still doesn’t go into much detail.  
  
Eventually Sera and Juliette join them, Sera a friend to them all despite being in a different House, merely for her time spent with Percy. They look stunning, naturally, Sera in yellow and Juliette in navy blue, but not without the pearls always draped across her neck.  
  
“I have never seen two more beautiful women in my life,” Willows declares. “Madam President and First Lady someday and we’ll never have better after.”  
  
Sera raises an eyebrow. “That could almost be considered a compliment, Archie,” she says with a faint smirk. “Congratulations, Rowan. We’re very eager to meet Elle. Juliette LeBlanc, for those who haven’t met her.”  
  
Juliette is French, an exchange student who took up work in MACUSA after finishing school, and it was only fitting that Sera would fall in love with her the moment they began to work together. She is immensely beautiful, tightly curled blonde hair and clear blue eyes, an elegance to her that Percy remembers her possessing even in school.  
  
After handshakes - or kisses to cheeks - there’s more conversation to be had, but Percy is highly aware they are missing one. He isn’t about to ask if Credence will be coming and no one makes mention of him, which makes Percy wonder if he had decided not to attend. Hopefully only because he is busy.  
  
Percy isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed.  
  
Creavey is called away soon and guests are asked to take their seats within the next ten minutes. Fontaine joins Eldora and introduces her to Willows and she promptly knocks the pompous attitude out of him with a sharp remark and sharper grin. Willows sits next to Percy and raises his eyebrows.  
  
“Oh, I like her,” he says. “It’s just you and I then, isn’t it? Ah, Credence as well, I think. Haven’t seen him in years either.”  
  
Percy tries not to stiffen because Willows isn’t looking at him anymore, but somewhere behind him, and Percy knows that Credence is here. The fact that he’s single is not one Percy needed to know - he’d have preferred the opposite, if he’s honest with himself.  
  
Fontaine sits to his right then, Eldora next to him, and sighs. “Don’t worry, he’s on the other end of the row,” he says quietly.  
  
“I’m not worried,” Percy says stiffly. “I knew he would be here.”  
  
Percy never looks to his left once the ceremony has started. He tries to push Credence out of his mind so he might enjoy watching the first of his school friends to get married.  
  
It is amusing how green Creavey looks but Elle is beautiful, red-haired and freckled, with the biggest smile Percy’s ever seen, and she’s wearing it the moment she sees Creavey.  
  
The ceremony isn’t long but it’s pleasant. Percy hasn’t been to a wedding since he was a teenager, forced to go with his family, and there’s something far more relaxed to this one. It’s beautiful but it’s not taken so seriously and soon they are married and Elle promptly calls for champagne to be opened.  
  
Percy is introduced to her family, a lot of red-heads, and though he is beginning to get used to the wariness some people have when they meet him, it’s quick to wear off today. It’s a celebration after all, not a criminal investigation, but it does make him long for a glass of whiskey.  
  
Speeches are short and sweet and when they toast, Percy does so with water. Dinner appears on the buffet tables after and Percy walks to the bar first, to get something other than water. He’s tempted to order a whiskey, but he knows the looks he’d get if he did, so he chooses coke.  
  
The bartender serves it in a typical rum and coke glass and slides it to Percy as he leans against the bar.  
  
“Cherry rum, please,” he hears next to him.  
  
Percy is sorely regretting not getting a whiskey now and is tempted to ask the bartender to put a few shots of rum in his coke anyway as he looks to his left and at a familiar face.  
  
Not twenty anymore, certainly, but hardly any different than he last saw him. Still lanky but dressed finely enough for a casual wedding and Percy’s heart feels like it’s been squeezed and by what, he doesn’t know, but it’s not letting go.  
  
Credence looks at him then, meeting his eyes levelly.  
  
“Hey,” Percy says, because they can’t stare at each other all day long. “How are you?”  
  
It’s a wildly inadequate thing to ask but Percy is at a loss for words otherwise.  
  
“I’m fine,” Credence says and his voice is as soft and kind as it’s always been, but hearing it again when he hasn’t prepared for it throws Percy for a loop. “How have you been? How’s Eliza?”  
  
“She’s good,” Percy says, happy to latch onto that. “Great, really, her recovery was relatively quick considering the circumstances. She’s been herself since then. Runs the store now.”  
  
Credence smiles faintly. “That’s good,” he says. “She’s very brave for going back to that store after.”  
  
“A combination of being brave, stubborn and not really remembering much of what happened,” Percy says with a fond smile. “I put more charms on that place than I have on my own apartment.”  
  
Credence huffs a small laugh. “I’m sure,” he says. “You look good.”  
  
Percy knows that to mean _you don’t look like an alcoholic anymore_ and shrugs. “Turns out you were right about the whiskey,” he says. When Credence merely quirks an eyebrow, Percy smirks. “I know, a surprise to me as well. But I’m doing good now. I hope you are too.”  
  
Credence nods and takes a drink of his cherry rum and swirls the cherry around in it after. “Yeah,” he says. “Still brewing every day but I took a job I was offered elsewhere that pays even better and is far more interesting. I was able to get out of that little hole in the wall so things are definitely better.”  
  
Percy smiles, though it hurts to. “Congratulations,” he says. “I’m happy to hear it. You look good too, Credence.”  
  
After taking another sip of the rum, Credence looks out at the tables. “Thanks. I feel good,” he says. “It was nice seeing you, Percy.” He looks at Percy and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.  
  
“You too,” Percy says quietly and watches Credence walk away with a heavy heart.  
  
“You want the rum?” the bartender asks with some sympathy.  
  
“Tempting,” Percy says and winks. “But no, thank you.”  
  
Percy leaves then and sets his coke at the table he’s sharing with Fontaine, Eldora, Sera and Juliette. He gets a plate of dinner afterward and sits down, picking up his fork, but he feels eyes on him. He looks up at his friends as they peer at him and he raises his eyebrows until they sigh and turn away, back to their conversations and enjoying dinner.  
  
He’s not going to talk about Credence. It was hard enough looking him in the eye, as beautiful as always, his hair still an uncontrollable mess, something Percy always enjoyed in the mornings especially.  
  
He doesn’t look for Credence, not when dinner has been cleared away and the band starts playing. The bride and groom share a dance before various other people join them. Percy dances with Sera first, his first dancing partner in his life, and Juliette doesn’t mind.  
  
“Well?” Sera asks as they move through a slow waltz.  
  
“Well what?” Percy asks and sighs when she only raises an eyebrow at him. “We barely spoke, Sera. It was fine.”  
  
“Was it? You hardly look fine.”  
  
“I assure you that I am.”  
  
Sera peers up at him. “You could end the night well, if you wanted to.”  
  
Percy closes his eyes briefly to try and control his growing annoyance. “How could I do that, Sera?”  
  
“You could apologize to him the way I know you’ve wanted to since the beginning,” Sera says simply. “It would do both of you some good.”  
  
“You’ve been talking to Eliza,” Percy mutters and narrows his eyes when she shrugs, unrepentantly. “He’d probably throw his drink in my face.”  
  
“Doom and gloom, that’s always where your thoughts go,” Sera says but it’s with fond exasperation.  
  
“Well, forgive me, but doom and gloom has been my life since day one,” Percy says with a smile. “I don’t want to bother him, Sera. It’s too late for an apology.”  
  
“Who on earth told you that? That voice in your head that’s given you nothing but trouble?” Sera asks dryly. “It’s never too late for an apology, Percy, and I daresay Mister Barebone deserves one.”  
  
Percy sighs and looks up at the white canopy above. “I apologized that first day, you know.”  
  
“Right after you changed his entire life in an instant, yes, I remember you telling me so.”  
  
“For Merlin’s fucking sake,” Percy says and smiles apologetically when an old woman near him gasps. “I feel guilty enough about it already.”  
  
“So _apologize,_ you absolute moron of a man,” Sera says. “Or I’ll have the President demote you.”  
  
Percy laughs. “He wouldn’t even if the request came from you. I am just that good at what I do,” he says and only winces a little when she punches his arm.  
  
“It’s hard to believe that someone as brilliant as you is as brilliantly stupid as you are.”  
  
“Let go of my balls, Sera.”  
  
Sera smirks and shakes her head as the dance comes to an end. He kisses her hand and offers it to Juliette when she comes to have the next dance.  
  
“Whatever she’s told you, my love, listen to her,” Juliette says as she taps his tie before whisking Sera off in a faster paced dance.  
  
Fontaine and Eldora are not far behind them and Percy goes back to their table so he might be able to watch Fontaine step on everyone and enjoy it a little, maybe before he does something stupid like find Credence and pour his heart out.  
  
Because Credence will do something stupid too, like forgive him, and Percy doesn’t really want that.  
  
He drinks his coke instead and watches people dance, occasionally speaking with someone who comes by to shake his hand. Willows joins him eventually and he’s not so caustic when they’re alone, the way he never has been, but Percy wishes he would be, because when he tells Percy that Credence has been single all this time, he has a much stronger desire to punch him than he usually does.  
  
The highlight of the evening is the sunset, lighting up the rolling hills with pink and violet light, and cake is served once it begins to grow darker and paper lanterns are lit, bobbing through the air under the canopy and outside of it.  
  
Percy gets another coke and leaves the canopy to get a bit of peace and quiet and walks down the hill a ways before he sits down. The last bit of sunlight has faded and stars are beginning to twinkle overhead, reflected on the creek at the bottom of the hill. He’s looking south and he knows Ilvermorny is out there, some four hours away, students studying for exams right at this moment.  
  
It feels like a lifetime ago and only just yesterday.  
  
“If it was a week later, this whole place would be lit up with fireflies from that creek.”  
  
Percy’s stomach tightens but he supposes Credence has been braver at this sort of thing than he has for a long while now. He looks at Credence when he sits next to him, looking south as well, probably thinking the same thing Percy had been.  
  
“It was always nice to see them over the Green River,” Percy says. “We’re lucky no one knew we went down there when we were supposed to be in the village.”  
  
Credence smiles. “We were adults. Headmistress Aurora probably would’ve just taken House points if she knew,” he says. “I suppose that might have earned us some enemies, if it was a lot of House points right before the year ended.”  
  
Percy chuckles. “The entire Wampus Quidditch team,” he says as he looks down at the creek. “Fontaine and Eldora will be next.”  
  
“She’s perfect for him,” Credence laughs. “He’s the same as ever and I think only she could be the one to match with him like she does.”  
  
“Absolutely,” Percy says. “He’s a marshmallow when he’s with her though.”  
  
“Hard to imagine him ooey and gooey,” Credence says with a laugh. “Sera and Juliette will be after them, won’t they?”  
  
Percy nods. “Probably. Sera’s going to wait until she’s head assistant, most likely, to guarantee her position after. That won’t be far from now though, a few years, maybe,” he says. “They’ll have the most lavish wedding New York has probably ever seen.”  
  
“You’re finally wearing Anita’s, you might just fit in.”  
  
“She does do very good work, doesn’t she?” Percy says as he plucks at his pastel blue tie. “Where are you working at now?”  
  
Credence doesn’t answer immediately. “Umm… well, it’s a MACUSA-owned enterprise,” he says. “Technically I work for MACUSA these days but I’m never in the building.”  
  
Percy raises his eyebrows as he looks at Credence. “You’re brewing potions for one of the offshoots?” he asks. “Experimental?”  
  
“Experimental and rare, yes,” Credence says. “We supply Wolfsbane to the specialty potions shops owned by MACUSA that the werewolf population buys from. I wish they didn’t mark it so high considering it’s illegal for them not to purchase it or to brew it themselves. Not that that wouldn’t be dangerous.”  
  
“Difficult potion to brew,” Percy agrees. “I’m sure there are some unregistered who have managed to get it down though.”  
  
Credence nods. “Yeah. Probably more than we know,” he says and smiles. “I don’t really blame them, the prejudice they face when they register because of something they didn’t ask for.”  
  
“It’s always the unregistered ones that cause trouble for my department,” Percy says. “It’s hard to have sympathy on those days but I do understand it.”  
  
“You’re a senior now, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of things by now that make it hard to sympathize with people.”  
  
“When it’s completely unnecessary violence or the intent to sell to do harm, I have no sympathy at all,” Percy says dryly. “But if you mean every day people, yes, it’s difficult to listen to mundane problems these days.”  
  
Credence huffs a little. “You were never good at small talk anyway.”  
  
Percy shrugs. “I see horrific things and when I go to lunch with Eliza I see my name in the copy of _Witches Weekly_ she hands me and find it very, _very_ hard to take most of the population seriously.”  
  
“Your name and face have been in the paper more than a few times, from what I’ve gathered, of course _Witches Weekly_ readers would be interested.”  
  
“Merlin curse these handsome features,” Percy says and smiles when Credence laughs. “Director Wolfs had to sit me down and warn me not to tell the press to go fuck themselves again because it made the department seem aggressive.”  
  
“Anyone with a brain can see why you would say it,” Credence says and he’s still smiling. “Most people I know speak very highly of Aurors and not about their personal lives.”  
  
“Sounds like you do as admirable of work as an Auror does,” Percy says. “Most of those offshoots experiment with potions to cure maladies anyway.”  
  
Credence shrugs, always modest. “We certainly try,” he says. “Sometimes we even succeed. It’d be nice to never have a need to sell Wolfsbane ever again.”  
  
Percy smiles and looks at Credence. “I’m glad you found something that lets you help people. You always wanted to.”  
  
Credence smiles faintly in return and nods. “It’s a lot more fulfilling these days.”  
  
They gaze at each other until there’s a cheer under the canopy and they look up at it. It’s getting louder, booze flowing more freely, and everyone is clearly having a good time. Percy thinks it’s fitting that he’s out here with Credence, in the peace and quiet, something they always sought out for themselves.  
  
“I suppose I should rejoin the party,” Credence sighs. “Now that I’ve safely missed the bouquet sorting.”  
  
Percy smirks. “If you’d been chosen, it would’ve been a hell of a sight to watch you dance to that song.”  
  
“Ugh,” Credence says and wrinkles his nose. “Everyone would’ve left in embarrassment.”  
  
Percy laughs and shrugs. “I wouldn’t have.”  
  
“Because you’d be on the floor laughing at me.”  
  
“I absolutely would be.”  
  
The bouquet sorting is similar to a no-maj bouquet toss, except the bouquet has been charmed to split in two and choose two people who must then share a traditional, if entirely wizard-influenced dance afterward. The most horrific part of every wedding Percy has been to, but the highlight for most other people.  
  
Credence is smiling and his pale skin touched by the bright moon makes him look ethereal, even more beautiful than he already is, softening the sharpness in his jaw and cheekbones.  
  
Percy’s heart aches as he watches Credence, who is looking at the celebration still, and though it terrifies him, scares him to death, he’s known that Eliza and Sera have been right for some time. Even if he never wanted to admit it.  
  
“Credence,” Percy says and Credence looks at him then and it’s painful to watch his smile disappear. To see wariness grow in his eyes instead. “Credence, I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”  
  
Credence’s brow furrows as he looks down at the grass between them and shakes his head. “It was a while ago, Percy—”  
  
“It doesn’t matter if it was yesterday or ten years ago, Credence, you deserve an apology. You deserved a hell of a lot better than what I gave you and I’m sorry every damn day of my life that I didn’t give that to you. Nothing can make that right, but I never should have left the way I did.”  
  
Credence doesn’t answer for some time, still staring down at the grass. When he looks at Percy, his eyes are bright. “No,” he says softly. “You shouldn’t have. But you were mixed up by a few different things. You weren’t yourself anymore.”  
  
“Because I chose not to be,” Percy says bitterly. “It was easier to choose anger than vulnerability. It was easier to drink and work and shut you out than to admit I was falling apart. All choices I made and I knew better. I ruined the best thing I’d ever had in my life when I should have fixed it instead.”  
  
“I’m not going to say it’s alright. It wasn’t alright. You broke my heart,” Credence whispers. “But I understood why, even if I wished you hadn’t made those choices. If you hadn’t, I think we would’ve been okay. We probably would’ve been the first ones to get married.”  
  
He says it with some attempt at levity but there’s nothing funny about it. It’s a bolt of pain in Percy’s heart, because he knows that’s true. He thinks then of Willows and the bet he’d lost and it makes him angry, unbelievably angry for numerous different reasons, almost all of them aimed at himself.  
  
“I’m sure we would have been,” Percy says and feels more hollow now than he has for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry I ruined that for both of us.”  
  
“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I suppose. It _has_ been a long while,” Credence says and looks at Percy, his eyes still bright, but he hasn’t shed any tears.  
  
Probably did plenty of that in the beginning, Percy thinks bitterly.  
  
“Anyway, we were so young,” Credence continues. “We still are, really, but we were barely twenty. It’s pretty easy to fuck up when you’re twenty.”  
  
Percy can concede that point, but he and Credence both know they have far more foresight and insightfulness than their peers, products of the environments they were raised in. Growing up too fast and knowing people too well because of it. They both know pain and the cruel ways it can be inflicted, so for Percy, there is no excuse.  
  
His age or his circumstances at the time didn’t matter.  
  
He’s not sure if Credence believes the same thing and is too polite to say so or not.  
  
“Maybe,” Percy says. “I would’ve preferred not to fuck up at all.” He sighs and stands, because he’s feeling wrung out now and he’s not sure if it’s with relief or more heartache. “Better get back to it,” he says and offers Credence his hands.  
  
Credence takes them and stands, brushing the grass off his slacks. He looks at Percy and smiles, very faintly. “Thank you,” he says. “For the apology. I think I needed that more than I was admitting to myself.”  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you earlier,” Percy says sincerely, another thing to be angry about. “You deserve good things, Credence. Good people in your life. I’ll always wish the best for you.”  
  
“You do too, Percy, even if you might think differently right now,” Credence says. “Maybe forgive yourself next and start finding good things. Good night.”  
  
He’s off, just like that, back under the canopy and disappearing into the crowd. Percy frowns after him and supposes Credence knows him well enough to know he’s never forgiven himself, to know he’s not found _good things_ in his life, like a relationship or contentment.  
  
Percy finds his friends, saying good night to them, and none of them seem surprised. But wizarding weddings are far too lengthy for his tastes and he’s not exactly in the partying mood.  
  
When he finds Creavey and Willows together by the bar, he shakes Willows’ hand, but Creavey, after a few too many glasses of champagne, hugs him and thanks him for coming.  
  
“We were eleven once, you know,” Creavey says. “It wasn’t even that long ago and now I’m a married man.”  
  
Percy smirks a little when Willows shakes his head in exasperation. “Congratulations,” he says. “Stop by MACUSA when you’re next in Manhattan and we’ll get lunch.”  
  
“No drinks anymore,” Creavey says with a sigh. “Not that I blame you. But we did see you speaking with Credence a few minutes ago. It was good to see it again. Whenever we see him he’s always refused to talk about you.”  
  
“Okay,” Percy sighs and pats Creavey’s shoulder. “Good nig—”  
  
“He only ever mentions that Eliza says you’re fine and won’t give us anything else than that.”  
  
Percy blinks a few times as he stares at Creavey. He looks at Willows, who is rubbing his forehead with his eyes closed. When he looks at Percy, he merely shrugs helplessly.  
  
“Are you telling me that my sister is in regular contact with Credence?” Percy asks and can’t help the sternness in his voice.  
  
Creavey raises his eyebrows and looks a little more sober. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. “...no, no that’s definitely not what I’m saying. Of course not.”  
  
“Good night, gentlemen,” Percy says through gritted teeth and leaves the venue. Once he’s stepped out of the canopy, he Disapparates back to Manhattan.  
  
He’d meant to go to his apartment but he finds himself outside of Eliza’s instead. He stares up at the familiar building, not all that far from his own, and feels anger coursing through him, in his blood, thrumming under his skin.  
  
There is absolutely no reason at all for Eliza to be in contact with Credence Barebone, especially not regularly. It feels like a violation of Percy’s privacy, of his life, because who knows what she’s told Credence? And Credence hadn’t bothered to tell him either - he already knew how Eliza’s been, but he’d asked out of politeness.  
  
They have no business being in each other’s lives still and they’ve hidden it from him for well over two years.  
  
Percy storms inside and takes the lift to Eliza’s floor. It’s not quite late, only half past eight, and so he doesn’t feel all that guilty when he knocks firmly on her door.  
  
It takes her a moment to answer, probably ensuring it’s safe to do so, and she opens the door, raising her eyebrows.  
  
“Only you would knock on my door like an Auror,” she says and sighs. She steps aside to let him in.  
  
Percy walks into the familiar space, everything about it screaming her name, but it doesn’t soften him at all. He turns around to face her when he’s halfway through the living room.  
  
“You mind telling me why the fuck you and Credence Barebone are keeping up with each other?”  
  
Eliza raises her eyebrows before she huffs a little laugh and walks to her sofa. She pats it but he stays where he is, glaring at her.  
  
“I suppose you talked to Credence at the wedding?” she asks. “How’d that go?”  
  
“Splendidly,” Percy snaps. “I apologized, if that’s what you’re asking. Eliza, _why?_ He is my… you have no business speaking with him!”  
  
“I have plenty of business speaking with him,” Eliza says calmly. “He’s my friend, Percy, first and foremost, but I also owe him an incredible debt.”  
  
Percy frowns as he stares at her. “A debt?” he repeats in disbelief. “What fucking debt?”  
  
Eliza gazes at him, pulling her legs onto the sofa, the epitome of relaxation, and it makes him angrier. She smiles and shakes her head. “He told me not to tell you. He made the few of us who knew swear not to tell you,” she says. “You’re both idiots, but I’ve respected that promise. I’m surprised he told you we still see each other.”  
  
“Oh, you _see_ each other?” Percy asks mockingly and raises his eyebrows. “This is getting better, isn’t it? Credence didn’t tell me, the drunken groom did. _What debt, Eliza?”_  
  
“I’m going to jinx you if you keep taking that tone with me,” Eliza says breezily. “Healer Doves was more than happy to accept his expertise in potion making when he offered it. He and Hollow and Ronstad worked together in the months after your break up, when Coal was brought in, to find a potion to cure me. It was his breakthrough while working on it that made it possible to brew in the first place.”  
  
Percy stares at her and feels like his world has narrowed down to just her, like he’s seeing her through a tunnel. He’s breathing shallowly and feels faint and Eliza’s face softens as she gazes at him.  
  
“You were so angry, Percy. You’ve told me that,” she says. “He didn’t want you to feel like you had an obligation to him if you knew. He didn’t want you to feel like you were trapped in his debt or in his life. He still feels today that you would think it was an overstep on his part despite the fact that it saved my life. You both have such a backwards way of looking at things sometimes.”  
  
Percy merely tries to keep breathing as he watches her.  
  
Even the fucking Healers didn’t tell him. So many people have known something about him, his sister, Credence, and no one has said a damn thing because Credence was afraid. Afraid to trap him or make him feel like he owed him a debt so soon after Percy had left him.  
  
Afraid that he might have _overstepped_ when he saved Eliza’s damn life.  
  
Percy feels like he’s been cursed in about twenty different ways and he thinks he’s not going to recover from it.  
  
“I have to go,” he says.  
  
“Percy,” Eliza says gently. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for not telling you but it’s what he wanted. But everything is okay now.”  
  
“Like fuck it is,” Percy says and he’s mortified there are tears in his eyes. “He still cared enough about you and me to do what he did after I left him. After I hurt him.”  
  
“He’s a good man,” Eliza says. “You’ve apologized, Percy. That’s all it has to be. Credence never wanted you to feel like you owe him something. I’ve thanked him enough for a lifetime, for both of us.”  
  
“I have to go,” he repeats, more weakly.  
  
Eliza appraises him before she nods. “Okay,” she says. “I love you, kiddo.”  
  
“I love you too, old lady,” Percy croaks and turns away when she smiles. He leaves her apartment then, out of the door and down the lift.  
  
She trusts him, to let him leave without saying anything else. She trusts him not to be self-destructive, not to go buy a bottle of whiskey, though that had been his first thought. But he doesn’t want to do that.  
  
Percy already let it ruin him once, he won’t do it again.  
  
He Disapparates once he’s outside and with a _crack,_ he’s under familiar trees, a place he’s been many times before.  
  
Central Park is beautiful in spring, even as dark as it is, but the moon is full and he gazes around, tears on his cheeks. He lets them be, thinks he needs to cry for once, and he pulls out his wand. With a thrust of his arm, his Patronus appears, graceful, and she looks at him.  
  
He tells her what he needs to and he doesn’t know if it’ll work. Doesn’t know if Credence will come or if he’s had enough for one night. Percy wouldn’t blame him.  
  
But the lioness leaps forward, until she disappears and Percy looks up at the stars and the moon and doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or scream.  
  
There’s some sort of betrayal here, he thinks, and he’s angry about it. But it’s not at Credence or Eliza or anyone else. He’s angry at himself, just another reason to be, because he betrayed himself. Betrayed everything he wanted most and betrayed Credence and left him feeling this way.  
  
He thinks if someone had bothered to tell him any of this earlier that neither of them would have had to suffer for as long, but that’s his fault to begin with, so he can’t be bitter.  
  
Percy hears a _crack_ then and looks to his left. Credence has come because he’s too beautiful of a person to not have and he looks concerned as he walks toward Percy.  
  
“Is everything alright? Did something happen?”  
  
Percy walks to Credence and Credence stops and looks vaguely more worried for himself now. Percy supposes he doesn’t look at his best, tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, but he gets to Credence and embraces him, tightly, and hears his _oof._  
  
“Percy—”  
  
“You saved Eliza’s life and you never told me, you fucking bastard,” Percy whispers and squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
Credence steadily relaxes and sighs then. “Oh,” he says quietly. “I… umm… who— who told you?”  
  
“Creavey and Eliza,” Percy says. “A good thing too. You were never going to tell me.” He sniffs and he wants to give Credence breathing room, but he can’t seem to let go.  
  
“I didn’t think I’d ever really see you again, except at weddings, maybe,” Credence mumbles. “Please don’t cry, Percy,” he adds softly but that’s a lost cause. “Okay, here, give me my arms back.”  
  
Percy chuckles, unable to help it, though he is half weeping. He loosens his hold on Credence but Credence only wraps his arms tightly back around Percy and Percy hugs him again, breathing in the same old cologne he’s been wearing since he was seventeen.  
  
They hold onto each other for a long while until Percy shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Credence. That I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. I’m so sorry. But thank you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for saving my sister’s life. You had the idea for a potion from nearly the beginning.”  
  
Credence swallows, nervous, and rests his head on Percy’s shoulder. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly. “It was the right thing to do and… I loved both of you, you know. I wanted to help. I’m just glad I was able to, but they would’ve figured it out without me.”  
  
“Maybe,” Percy says. “And maybe not. Maybe not for a long time. But you did. I should have listened to you… about a lot of fucking things. You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. You didn’t have to do any of it. Your kindness and good heart is what I loved most about you.”  
  
“It was the right thing to do,” Credence says, with a little despair, because he’s never taken praise like this well. “Please don’t feel you owe me anything for it.”  
  
Percy laughs and moves his hand up, tangling his fingers in Credence’s hair. “How can I not?” he asks. “I owe you everything for it. I know you didn’t want me to feel this way, but you saved the life of my sister, who saved _my_ life numerous times. I didn’t lose her because of you.”  
  
He pulls back then and looks at Credence, whose eyes are bright and he looks embarrassed, his cheeks red, when a few fall. Percy moves his hand to his cheek and brushes them away.  
  
“Incredible you,” Percy sighs.  
  
“Stop it,” Credence mumbles. “You’re making me cry.”  
  
Percy smiles. “Yeah, well. Goes both ways tonight,” he says quietly. “I hope these tears aren’t so bad. I don’t think so.”  
  
“No,” Credence agrees and sniffs. “I don’t think so either. It’s a little overwhelming though. I’d already convinced myself I probably wouldn’t see you again for another couple years.”  
  
“I’m glad I got to see you tonight. Thank you for coming,” Percy says and brushes a few more tears from Credence’s cheeks. “You and my sister don’t have to hide anything from me anymore.”  
  
Credence smiles faintly. “She’s really good at telling me how stupid I am,” he says softly. “But I was afraid.”  
  
“I don’t want you to be afraid anymore,” Percy says. “I don’t want to go a couple years without seeing you either.”  
  
Credence bites his lip as he looks at Percy. “This is what I was afraid of. That you’d want to see me because you feel like you owe me.”  
  
Percy shakes his head. “If you think I didn’t want to ask to see you again earlier tonight, you are very mistaken, Mister Barebone. There have been so many times I’ve wanted to find you. To apologize but just to see you too. I didn’t think you’d want that,” he says. “But I’ve missed your company for a long fucking time. Well before I knew this.”  
  
“I’ve missed your company too,” Credence breathes and sounds afraid to say it. He squeezes his eyes shut before looking at Percy. “I want to see you too. I don’t want it done out of a debt and I especially don’t want it done if you’re going to get overwhelmed someday and disappear again.”  
  
“Never,” Percy says firmly. “Never again. I don’t think I can get anymore overwhelmed than I am right now and the only thing I want to do is kiss you and take you home with me.”  
  
Credence laughs and his smile is wide as he looks down at Percy’s collar. “I don’t know about taking me home tonight,” he says. He looks at Percy, warmth in his eyes. “But I wouldn’t mind being kissed.”  
  
Percy smiles and strokes Credence’s cheek. He leans in and kisses Credence, a simple and gentle thing, and it’s a little damp from tears, but that’s alright.  
  
They hold each other and kiss under the full moon in Central Park and Percy thinks this is just the beginning, said with a soft _hello._  
  
——  
  
It’s a slow beginning.  
  
Percy understands why it needs to be and he’s perfectly alright with it. He will keep showing Credence the love and respect he deserves, as long as Credence lets him. Hopefully until they’re both old and grey.  
  
Breakfast and dinner dates start it and it’s as easy as it’s been since the initial hurdle in Ilvermorny. The first step. They fall into warm conversation and easy laughter and eventually there’s more.  
  
Walks in Central Park and long kisses good night.  
  
Lunch with Eliza, which seems like it might be a test of the strength they’re building, but it doesn’t end up that. It ends up being a good time, freedom and the open truth between them now, and there’s healing to be found there.  
  
Spending time in each other’s apartments comes naturally. Reading books with their legs tangled together on sofas that finally fit them both comfortably. Cooking together, not the disaster it used to be, but something fun, something that makes it easy to be close to each other, to kiss and touch freely.  
  
Credence helps Percy find forgiveness for himself. He helps him every time he says _I love you_ and he helps him every time they talk about what led them to be where they are and the resentment, the anger is gone. It’s honest and sometimes painful but the weight lifts, steadily, until it’s gone.  
  
Until Percy only has room to be grateful that Credence is back in his life. To be thankful for what he did for Eliza and himself. To love him, more than anything, and to give him what he deserves, the way he’s always wanted to.  
  
Making love comes when they’re both prepared for it and the first time is far different than when they were seventeen. It’s not a desperate need for an end, but the longing for something to last, to hold each other and whisper _I love yous_ against heated skin.  
  
It’s not long after that when Percy asks if Credence wants to share a home with him again. There’s no hesitation or doubt when Credence says _yes_ and his smile is tender, the kind of smile that makes Percy fall a little more in love with him every day.  
  
Credence chooses Percy’s apartment for the view of Central Park and his things are around the apartment soon, his blankets and clothes and all of the picture frames with their pictures in them, never thrown away. Percy thinks the apartment has never looked better.  
  
Their friends are happy for them, relieved in a way they don’t bother hiding, and Credence fits right in with them, with Eldora and Juliette, though Creavey and Willows they only see occasionally.  
  
Life moves on and there are ups and downs, naturally, with Percy’s work mostly, but they are an _enviable couple_ again, because they both want to give and always meet in the middle.  
  
They get older and wiser and there’s not a day that goes by that they don't say _I love you._ There’s not a year that passes that they don't take a step back from it all and find time for an adventure, in Mexico or Canada or Scotland or the Bahamas. They don’t forget to live, to make memories, and to simply enjoy life and each other.  
  
Percy is the Director of Magical Security by the time he’s thirty.  
  
This is of no surprise to anyone but he still gets shit for it anyway from their friends.  
  
What he gets from Credence is a proposal.  
  
And, on one autumn day, Mister and Mister Graves get married, and Willows complains about them being the last to do so and losing him another bet.  
  
Percy and Credence are fine with that because it was meant to go this way, slow and steady, and they have more important things to worry about than bets.  
  
Like the glorious sunset over Upstate New York, setting the forests already turned golden and red, into bright flames framed with violet. They watch it together, hand in hand, and listen to Eliza wrangle their friends away, so they might get a moment to themselves.  
  
Percy looks at Credence, bathed in a soft pink light, at the gentle smile on his face, at the way his hair is sticking up in about three different directions, wearing one of Anita’s finest tuxedos, and thinks he’s never seen a finer sight.  
  
Credence looks at him and his smile widens. “Weren’t we just sixteen?” he asks, his shoulder pressed firmly to Percy’s.  
  
“Feels like it,” Percy says and smiles. “I remember seeing you for the first time, hunched over your dinner in the Great Hall, like it was yesterday.”  
  
Credence laughs. “I remember you bossing me around right after that just as clearly,” he says and grins. “There’s never been a more serious sixteen year old and there’s never been a less serious thirty year old.”  
  
“Thank Merlin for it,” Percy says. “Life is infinitely better when you learn it’s worth embarrassing yourself to get your husband to laugh.”  
  
“Only out of the public eye though.”  
  
“I do have a certain image to maintain.”  
  
“If only they could see you spend half an hour arguing with an owl every few days and losing most of the time.”  
  
“For your eyes and your eyes alone, love.”  
  
Credence kisses Percy and it’s an easy thing to know, to embrace, that they’re at the beginning of their next chapter, with many more adventures yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credence messed up in my last fic, I guess it was Percy's turn? Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this one. It was so fun to write their time at Ilvermorny and exploring their time after. (Please ignore any mistakes, I'll figure them out someday lmao. Also I took some liberties with Ilvermorny cause some canon stuff for it is nonsense)
> 
> I would love love love to hear from you. Thank you!
> 
> Thanks, as always, to [Erin](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/angelsallfire) and my Momma!! <333 Couldn't do it without you two!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vtforpedro)


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